


a drizzle of sunrise

by demuname



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha Sakusa Kiyoomi, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Family Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mutual Pining, Omega Miya Atsumu, POV Alternating, Pro Volleyball Player Miya Atsumu, Pro Volleyball Player Sakusa Kiyoomi, Sexual Content, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:41:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 37,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28649952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demuname/pseuds/demuname
Summary: “It was drizzling. The wind blows. It reminds me of the rooftop, and... you.” Kiyoomi says, taking in a deep breath, and sighs. “Everything in my mind seems to come back to you, lately.”The edges of Miya's face softens as he smiles at Kiyoomi. “I can’t believe how sick and wicked coincidences can be. Here I am, pathetically awake because I also can’t stop thinkin’ about ya.”Atsumu meets Kiyoomi again after four long years, but neither of them stayed the same, and so does their feelings towards each other.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 25
Kudos: 316





	a drizzle of sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is inspired and influenced by other works. there will be some words written in japanese along the story.  
> credits and a japanese glossary are on the end notes.  
> additional tw// vomiting, blood (there will be a warning the scenes with it)

Spring and Summer are the seasons where most volleyball teams open tryouts to scout for new members. Atsumu's team, MSBY Black Jackals, opens theirs every Spring and Autumn. Coach Foster always requests his assistance in serving for the potential players. Last Autumn, they recruited Hinata Shouyou, the small middle blocker Atsumu faced for two consecutive years in the Nationals from Karasuno. In the years Atsumu hasn't seen him, Hinata has grown taller, and the muscles forming his body are sculpted into perfection underneath his equally sinful tanned skin. The piece of sunshine in his smiles and the gleaming twinkle in his eyes whenever he plays remains the same. He's vigorous, shaped out of deeply rooted passion, and Atsumu couldn't believe his luck in fulfilling the promise he once has declared upon Hinata - for the day has come for him to set for him.

Moreover, it's refreshing, having another fellow omega on the team after spending years being the lone omega in the midst of alphas and betas.

When Spring tryout comes, an old acquaintance shows himself in MSBY's training facility at Higashi-Osaka. Sakusa Kiyoomi - freshly graduated out of university, crowned MVP of Japan National Collegiate Volleyball Championship, and the top 3 aces in the country during his days in Itachiyama. Out of all teams he may apply to, Atsumu certainly didn't expect Sakusa to be here in Osaka. Atsumu thought that he would stay around Tokyo and join the Adlers or the Raijins, where Ushijima or his cousin Komori are.

"Sakusa," Atsumu greets, passing him a ball, which he catches easily. Both of them are in the court, preparing for Sakusa's turn to serve. "Long time no see. Didn't think ya would apply for a try out here."

"Miya," he greets back, with a voice an octave lower than how Atsumu remembers, and Atsumu skin shivers. "Hm. It's been a while."

Coach Foster sends a signal for them to prepare by the whistle.

"Well then, show us what ya got."

Sakusa throws the ball into the air, jumps, and slams the ball down to the net. Inunaki is on the other side, waiting for the ball to arrive. However, when the ball makes contact with his arms, it bounces off right away, sending it springing out of the court.

 _Must be the spin,_ Atsumu thinks. Just as he hates Bokuto's cross or Hinata's unpredictable receives, he hates Sakusa's quirk. The spin on his spikes has evolved far from the ones Atsumu has received during high school.

Coach Foster purses his lips in interest - he has an affinity for individuals with peculiar skills, after all - and scribbles something on the paper. Sakusa would surely pass the tryouts with his talent to make his balls tricky to receive, which provides the team with additional offence points. The announcement of Sakusa's recruitment comes only the day after - proving Atsumu right - and Sakusa will officially join their team starting next week. All they've ever been are rivals, but now, Atsumu is going to have Sakusa as a teammate.

"Welcome to the team, Sakusa, or should I call, Kiyoomi-kun?"

Atsumu smiles playfully, and in contrast, Sakusa's face contorts sourly. "Just Sakusa is fine."

"Noted. Kiyo- Oh, Omi-kun, then."

"What the hell, Miya."

"Oof. Today is the first day we become teammates and you're cursing at me already?" Atsumu gasps and moves a hand into his heart. "That's not nice. And I told 'cha to call me Atsumu, like, ages ago."

"Oh my god," Sakusa mumbles and walks away.

Atsumu grins. Nothing much has changed from Sakusa. The mask is still on outside practice along with his disinfecting equipment, and he's still prickly as ever.

Coach Foster assigns them into a 3v3 practice match, and Atsumu is on the same side as Sakusa. Considering he's going to be placed as a first-string player, as the setter, Atsumu needs to sync with him.

They're a bit off during the first minutes, but once Atsumu starts to get a grasp on the timing, it's not hard to get in sync. Atsumu pushes further by attempting a quick out of Sakusa, which probably catches him off guard, but nonetheless, delivers it successfully.

"Nice kill, Omi-kun," Atsumu says, the nickname rolling naturally in his tongue. He throws Sakusa a thumbs up, remembering how much Sakusa despises being touched and refuses every high-five.

Sakusa glares in disdain and snarls. "Don't call me that."

"Kiyoomi-kun sounds too long," Atsumu shrugs. Growing up with a twin, he's used to being called by his first name, and prefers to call his friends or teammates by their first name too. Sometimes he uses nicknames if he thinks their name is too long. "Omi-kun sounds cuter too."

"I'm _not_ cute."

"Ya certainly not, but the name is."

Atsumu swallows a cackle as Sakusa turns to ignore him. Out of the other members of the team, Sakusa provides him with the best response. His scrunchy face, the glares, disgusted look, and grimaces are the best. 'Bothering Omi-kun' sounds like good entertainment in Atsumu's daily life.

Teaming up with the grouchy, uptight alpha may become the catalyst to Atsumu's ordinary everyday.

* * *

Born as the youngest child with two far older siblings from two workaholic parents meant that Kiyoomi is used in being alone all the time. He grew up under his grandmother and nanny's care in the usually empty Sakusa household. That was until his cousin Motoya - who's the same age as him - moved to Tokyo from Ibaraki, and lived near Kiyoomi's house.

They were elementary schoolers, and Motoya's father kept arranging play dates at the Komori household. Motoya played in the local junior volleyball club, and Kiyoomi ended up joining along, though he didn't have much interest in the sport initially. As time went by, both of them got closer and no matter where Kiyoomi went or did, Motoya had always been there.

Kiyoomi knows he's not exactly the brightest in interacting with people. He finds the pleasantries a bother and unnecessary, and thus, he lets Motoya do it for both of them. But now, without Motoya's around anymore, Kiyoomi is stuck to deal with it himself. He is clear with his 'I'm _not interested and I don't care_ ' demeanour, and people would usually back off after several exchanges.

Miya Atsumu is an exception, though. Maybe it's because they had met before, during the All-Japan Youth Camp. Or perhaps it's because Miya had seen him begging on his knees in requesting a favour.

High school Miya is loud, obnoxious, and annoying. He's arrogant, thinks too highly of himself, insults his teammates, and he's rotten for any kind of attention he can get. Vain and vanity run fuel in his blood. His sweet talk and foxy smiles grant him his popularity, especially from the girls, making up for his corrupt personality. In short, he's a troublesome person to deal with, and Kiyoomi tries to keep his interactions with Miya to a minimum.

This Miya, however, is different. He's still loud, obnoxious, and annoying – but he has this softer air that makes him somewhat amicable to be around.

Perhaps it's the work of biology. Omegas tend to mollify as they mature. It's just a hypothesis, and even if it's true, Kiyoomi just has the luck to be Miya's _favourite_ person to bother.

"Omi-kun!" Miya calls, running to his direction. His piping voice calling Kiyoomi with that _horrid_ nickname sends his temper running. Kiyoomi dislikes being referred to using his given name except by family members, much less a nickname. He doesn't understand why Miya can't just call people by their name like a normal person. Thanks to him, his teammates started referring to him by the stupid nickname. "Help me with my stretching, would ya?"

He is starting to regret applying to the Jackals instead of Adlers. With a more reserved Wakatoshi and Kageyama, things could be much more peaceful, despite Hoshiumi's unlimited energy. Here, he's stuck with Miya, Bokuto, and Hinata, who's equal to three Hoshiumis. These last two weeks drain down all of his patience and sanity like never before.

"Maybe I will. _If_ ," Kiyoomi snarls, glaring holes to Miya, "You stop calling me t _hat_."

"Why? It suits ya!"

"Thanks to you, _everyone_ calls me that now. We're not even friends."

Miya has the audacity to laugh. "Now Omi-kun, stop being such a stick in the mud! We're teammates, so we're basically friends now."

"Well, I don't-"

"Miya! Sakusa! Stop talking and get on with the stretching!"

Coach Foster's voice booms throughout the gym and everyone's eyes are on them both, forcing them both to apologize and continue with their stretching.

"This is your fault, Miya."

"How is it my fault? This wouldn't happen if ya just say yes, Omi-omi."

Kiyoomi clicks his tongue in annoyance and sighs. For now, the only option he has is to endure and go along with the flow.

* * *

It's past dusk and Atsumu is still in the gym, throwing balls into the air and hitting them across the net. He has hit god-knows how many balls and catches up for his breath, steadying his beating heart with legs threatening to collapse anytime soon. Atsumu is getting better, but with the chances of success of around five to ten balls, he's still not good enough. He just hasn't found the groove yet.

Atsumu's jump serves and float serves are old news. Everyone knows about the four steps jump serve and six steps jump floats already, and it gets boring. Atsumu is in dire need of an upgrade and watching Orlof's hybrid of jump-float serve did the trick.

Now _that's_ something interesting. Kageyama and his five-point no-touch service ace in France can go to hell by the time Atsumu masters this technique down his sleeves.

Atsumu holds a ball and turns it around in his hand. He promises himself that this serve will be the last one if he doesn't want to collapse during practice tomorrow. Basking in the silence, he takes in a deep breath and throws the ball high up. When the moment feels right, he jumps to hit the ball, sending it flying through the net. The ball bounces off bound as it lands, and Atsumu grins, wiping off the sweat from his forehead.

_Perfect._

"Orlof's hybrid serve," a voice says, breaking Atsumu's small celebration. "So that's what you've been up to lately."

Sakusa is standing by the gym doors, complete in the team's jacket and bag. Atsumu didn't know there was still anyone within the training facility.

"Omi-kun. What are ya still doin' here?"

Sakusa rolls his eyes. "I just got finished, obviously."

"Yeah, but what took ya so long? Wait, ya don't need to tell me, I don't really care. Now that you've seen it, you gotta say that last serve was somethin' else, right?"

"It's nothing special if you can't score a point with it."

Atsumu is about to brush Sakusa's statement off if not for the malicious gleam in his usual, boring dark eyes. Sakusa is not-so-secretly implying a _challenge._ If there's anything they both can agree on, is that they _love_ a good challenge.

It's the main reason they started their 'who got the most service aces in the match' rivalry. Atsumu has his dual weapon. Sakusa has his abnormal wrists. Both of them are the team's main service offence, and they both refuse to back down to each other on being best.

Atsumu smirks. "Why, ya think I won't nail this down by the V.League? Are ya scared, Omi-kun?"

"Why would I?"

"By the time I get the hang of it, I'll nail this team's service aces."

"We'll see," Sakusa scoffs, and turns his back away from the gym. "Remember that I'm still ahead of you, Miya."

Sakusa's back disappears in the shadows, and Atsumu shouts, "You won't be for long, Omi-omi!"

He might be hallucinating, but Atsumu swears he can hear a chuckle coming from a distance away.

* * *

Playing for Itachiyama was pleasant. His team was strong, being one of the best in the country with high-calibre players. Playing for the Jackals is also enjoyable. Even so, there's an irrefutable fact upon his experience here that he didn't experience fully during his days in Itachiyama.

He was once the best, an ace of his school. Now, with monsters across Japan in his team, he's fallen from his title, and to reach it back, Kiyoomi can only seek and achieve for the top. And it's fun. The more games he plays with this team, the more interesting and challenging it is. Kiyoomi thrives on pushing himself more.

Additionally, it's even more fun to see his own teammates struggling to keep up with his skill, specifically Miya. He's not exactly bad at receiving, but compared to Kiyoomi, Kiyoomi is certainly better and experienced. A bubble of mischief comes into view when Kiyoomi serves the ball. When the ball comes into contact with Miya's arms, it bounces astray.

He bites off a laugh and taunts him condescendingly. "I can take most of your serves, but you can't. You suck."

"I didn't know ya can spin the ball counter-clockwise too!" Miya whines, pouting like a five-year-old child. "One more time, Omi-kun! I'll get this one for real!"

Miya's reaction reminds him of one particular day when he practised his newly developed spin with Motoya. They had been junior high schoolers back then, and Motoya kept failing his receives. It was then when Kiyoomi realised he can improve this quirk into a good weapon.

Once again, Kiyoomi serves - ball zooming fast into the other side - and Miya returns the ball into the air. It was a clean receive, smooth enough to rival Motoya's. The ball passes through the net and lands on Kiyoomi's court.

"Whoa!"

"Lucky."

"That ain't luck, Omi-kun!" he beams, "I think now I know how to get it back at ya."

Kiyoomi smirks, taking up the challenge. "Let's see if you're all talk or not."

"Bring it on!"

Atsumu waits, and Kiyoomi serves.

* * *

Atsumu huffs. He has been flipping his pillow over-and-over, turning around on his bed for god-knows how long until his blanket falls ungracefully to the ground. His bed is too hot, heat questionable with the air conditioner on. Sleep won’t come to him soon, and so, Atsumu exits his room to seek comfort from a midnight snack.

For a dorm housing the loudest team in Division 1, the hallway is eerily quiet. Atsumu quietly walks down the stairs to the main floor. The pantry’s white lamp is on, illuminating the empty counter. Someone must’ve forgotten to turn off the lights again. It’s not surprising if Shouyou rummages the fridge for his midnight snack.

Atsumu takes his mug – the one with misshapen onigiris of Onigiri Miya’s failed merch - and opens the top shelf to grab a box of _genmaicha_ tea that he so rarely brews. He pours two teaspoons of the tea into his mug and fills the electric kettle with some water. He stares blankly at the machine as he waits.

“Miya.”

Atsumu screams upon the intrusion and reflexively jumps from shock. He clutches his chest, trying to calm his hammering heart as he looks up to the intruder. Sakusa’s impassive stare animates with amusement, and without his mask, the corner of his lips is twitching. The bastard is about to laugh. Atsumu has just met him again after years, and he unintentionally made Sakusa laugh at him. He really is, undoubtedly, a clown.

“God, Omi-kun,” he splatters out, “Can’t you give my poor heart a warning? I thought you were a ghost or somethin’.”

Sakusa raises his eyebrows in question. At twenty-two, and as ridiculous as it sounds, Atsumu still has an unresolved fear of ghosts. He blames Osamu who traumatised him with a creepy _yuurei_ photo one night when they were nine and all alone in the house.

Having Sakusa’s eyes on him, Atsumu is suddenly self-conscious about his appearance. The incessant turning must have dishevelled his hair and his eyebags probably look like hell. That’s his cue to redirect Sakusa’s attention somewhere else.

“Anyways, what are you doin’ up, Omi-Omi?”

“I could ask you the same.”

“I asked you first.”

“I was about to ask before you thought a _ghost_ was calling you.”

Sakusa is mocking him. Atsumu huffs and pours the newly boiled water into his mug. “Just have trouble sleeping. You too?”

Sakusa doesn’t answer and proceeds to wash his used mug. _Rude._

“Bet yer nervous since it’s yer first game with the team, huh? Trust me, Omi-kun, with me being the setter, you don’t hafta worry ‘bout anythin’.”

Atsumu winks and the changes on Sakusa’s face are immediate. “That makes me worry about it more.”

Sakusa turns his heels away, unbothered to wait for Atsumu’s reply, leaving him alone in the pantry. _What an asshole._

Opening the fridge, Atsumu takes out three pieces of _kintsuba_ and settles on the couch. He turns on the TV, opening a random channel just for the sake of killing time until he can drift off to sleep.

Atsumu bites on his snack and blows the hot tea to cool it down, sighing as the warm liquid goes down along his throat. _Kintsuba_ and tea just taste so good and relaxing. His mother loves it and growing up, he consumes it a lot. Atsumu wouldn’t call himself an avid tea drinker, but he does crave it in moments like this. He always gets antsy on his pre-heat, more so because he has an upcoming game.

Things were much better back when he was still living in Hyogo with Osamu and his mother. Their scents comfort his instincts, and he’s always provided with his favourite comfort food. Moving to Osaka leaves him to deal with excruciating syndromes alone.

Atsumu wallows in his self-pity until he feels like dozing off, several minutes to four, and dashes back into his room after he turns off the TV and puts his mug in the sink, leaving the chore for later.

* * *

Kiyoomi has always been an early riser, or more precisely, he trained his body to, in the purpose of minimizing human contact in the mornings. Kiyoomi would not like to brush his teeth and wash his face together with everyone else, where water would splash everywhere, spreading germs through droplets. Terrible mouth odour and abused toilets in the morning is where bacterias concentrated the most.

If Kiyoomi is asked to make a list of why he doesn't like to share his living spaces with other people, the list would be endless. One of his pet peeves, in particular, is that people who don't immediately wash their dishes. He eyes Miya's onigiri mug in the sink - dirty with a sediment of tea residue - when he enters the pantry that morning. Having an insomnia episode has no correlation with hygiene. He makes a mental note to reprimand Miya's laziness for cleaning up his own dishes.

Just as Kiyoomi is about to head out, he spots some crumbs of biscuits on the pantry floor. Great. This hellhole is an ideal place for disgusting creatures like cockroaches to thrive. This is a shared living space, for god's sake, and people should really learn how to maintain and take care of the areas for the greater good.

Kiyoomi considers making his own makeshift pantry inside his room and prays that he could survive living here in the dorms for the whole year without dealing with any kinds of bugs or cockroaches. He would also need to buy some bug repellent sprays as prevention. Such strain to his mental wellbeing wouldn't exist if he could just live by himself. However, living in his own apartment is currently not in his options. At least, for the first year of his contract with MSBY Black Jackals.

He enters the empty bathroom and carries out his morning rituals of brushing his teeth and showering. As usual, when Kiyoomi emerges from the shower, Miya would show up in the bathroom with his own toiletries, and his hair pushed up using a headband.

"Good mornin', Omi-kun," he greets, yawning widely. Kiyoomi moves to distance himself from Miya. Can't he at least have some decency to close his mouth using his hands and prevent the spread of his mouth odour? "I still can't believe ya can take cold showers in the morning."

"I can't believe people like you start their day getting acquainted with germs."

Miya laughs. Kiyoomi frowns. He doesn't need to hear Miya's obnoxious voice early in the mornings. "We take baths before we sleep. We do nothing but sleep in our bed. I'd say that I'm still pretty clean."

"Your clean standards are low."

"Yer just too clean, Omi-kun."

There is no such thing as too clean. The sounds of footsteps become louder in the distance, and it's a cue for Kiyoomi to leave. He meets Bokuto in the hallway, and there's a line of dried drool on his chin.

"Good morning, Omi!"

Kiyoomi nods and flinches away before Bokuto can touch him in reflex, and dashes into the sanctuary in his own room.

He hopes for miracles that can help him withstand these adversaries every single day for one long, long year.

* * *

Spending most of his life living with an irritating twin, Atsumu has the ability to pick up some implicit things. Particularly, about Sakusa.

There's history between them both - being in the same year, being invited into the All-Japan Youth Camp for two years in a row, and facing each other's schools in Inter-High and Spring-High Tournaments. From their limited interactions, it's fair to judge that high school Sakusa is a recluse germaphobe with social skills of a sea urchin, has a freakish pair of wrists, and is particularly good at playing volleyball. There was a time when Atsumu patted Sakusa's back during their first-year camp, and Sakusa threw him a glare harsh enough to kill a man. Long story short, he's an eccentric alpha.

A lot of scouts offered Atsumu to join their team nearing his graduation, and Atsumu didn't hesitate to accept. He remembers his mother's incessant nagging to go to university, with him being an omega, telling him that _it's good to have a degree so you can work if someday you get mated, married, have kids, and have to retire early_ \- but Atsumu merely laughs it off because _nothing is going to stop him from pursuing his passion._ Atsumu takes the chance to go pro, just like most of the guys he met during the All-Japan Youth Camp. He had only known that Sakusa went into university instead when he heard it from Bokuto.

_"I don't understand why Sakusa goes to uni instead?" Bokuto asks, one day in the locker rooms while they're changing after their team practice. "All the top aces in the country - well, including me, of course - are scouted as soon as we graduate high school. I wanna face him…!"_

_Atsumu thinks about Kiryuu, Ushijima, and Aran. They all have joined a professional team right after high school. "Now that you've mentioned it..."_

_"Right?"_

Only when they have a practice match with a university team that Bokuto's question pops out randomly in his mind.

"Say, Omi-kun, I was wonderin'..." he says, as they pack their things into their bags, "Why did' cha go to university again? And what major did you take, anyway?"

"Industrial engineering. My parents told me to go. They want all their kids to have a degree."

Out of any degree that Sakusa has, Atsumu didn't expect it to be engineering. "Woah, that's actually really cool. Isn't it like, hard to get in?"

"Not really," Sakusa replies, tone flat. "If you have decent grades on your high-school report and your entrance exams, that is."

There's nothing much about his answer, but Atsumu catches the small smirk on Sakusa's lips just before he covers his face with a mask. Atsumu takes the bait.

"Oh, oooh. Are you mockin' me there, Omi-kun?"

"Perhaps."

"I'll let you know that my grades are good enough to enrol to a uni!"

"Thank you for enlightening me with some useless information."

Sakusa exits the locker rooms, and Atsumu stuffs his jacket hastily into his duffel bag before catching up to him. He's a few steps behind Sakusa, and that's when Atsumu takes in the sight of his shoulders and back, broader and stronger than the one he remembers. Sakusa has mellowed down from his scrupulous high school self. He talks more and somewhat friendlier. Four years in university did well in maturing his body and his social skills.

"Ya changed a lot, Omi-kun. Interesting."

"The hell are you talking about?"

Atsumu snickers upon Sakusa's annoyance and confusion. "Exactly what I said."

* * *

Contrary to a social butterfly, Kiyoomi is an observant. He picks up on things. Whether it’s the spark in the eyes, the faint twitch of lips, or the subtlest gestures.

There is something about the look on Miya’s eyes whenever he’s with Hinata. This type of gaze is not something rare – running in the line of respect, yearning, and adoration - it’s the eyes of people falling in love.

It brings Kiyoomi into a conclusion: Miya Atsumu has feelings for Hinata Shouyou.

This fact may or may not be a secret. Miya is naturally expressive and touchy. He wears his heart on his sleeves, burning emotions reflected from the depth of his eyes.

Hinata, however, doesn’t look at Miya in the same way. The way he gazes on Miya is the ones that he shares with his friends and teammates. While Kiyoomi knows that it’s not his business, sometimes he wonders if Hinata ever looks at someone differently. He gets his answer during Hinata’s debut in the match between the Jackals and Adlers.

Kiyoomi finds something different reflecting in his orange eyes for the first time, mixed emotions so complex that Kiyoomi can’t identify, of the way Hinata looks at Kageyama Tobio. He stays quiet with his newfound discovery.

“Shouyou-kun,” Miya calls, approaching Hinata who’s bickering with Kageyama, “Let’s get some drinks. My treat! Bokkun is joining too with Keiji-kun.”

Hinata’s attention drifts towards Miya, almost too energetically. “Ooooh, what are we waiting for, Atsumu-san? Let’s go!”

Kageyama narrows his eyes. “You _drink?_ ”

“I do! I told you I’m not a middle schooler anymore!”

“I bet you’re a lightweight.”

“Oh? You want to have a match on that?”

“Sure, why not? I bet you’re done in two shots.”

“Tobio-kun, you’re paying for yerself.”

There’s menace lurking underneath Miya’s smile as he wraps an arm around Hinata’s shoulder. Kageyama’s lips shift into a scowl, flickering a warning look to Miya. A silent battle of territory is established, and such display of antagonism is a common sight. What makes this interesting though, is that instead of two alphas or two omegas clashing, this is between an alpha and an omega. It’s a wonder how Miya doesn’t even blink from an alpha’s threat, much less challenging them to claim a territory.

In summary, Kiyoomi learns three things today. One, confirmation of Miya’s unreciprocated feelings. Two, the object of Hinata’s interest. Three, that Miya is a dangerous omega to mess with.

“Shouyou-kun, make sure you crush Tobio-kun no matter what.”

“I won’t disappoint you, Atsumu-san!”

Miya turns into Kiyoomi’s way and as he smiles and waves. “Omi-kun! Join us drinkin’? Everyone is coming!”

As much as he prefers to return to his hotel room, there is no escaping the after-party if the whole team is going. “If I refuse, Meian-san is just going to force me to join, isn’t he?”

“Yup! And ya know it’s better to walk with us there rather than being dragged by him.”

Kiyoomi sighs, knowing that it’s true, and he follows the gang from behind.

* * *

This sucks. Everything sucks.

It’s 1.23 AM, and Atsumu is in the common room, sitting on the couch in the dark. The only source of light is from the TV where he opens a random sad romantic movie. He buries himself in heaps of blankets, munching some fatty tuna nigiri he ordered from his favourite restaurant before he went back to the dorms. On the table, sits a box of umeshu and his neglected phone.

A perfect pity party for a pathetic me, Atsumu muses, not paying much attention to the movie. He was innocently walking out of the toilet when he saw his crush, Shouyou, kissing Tobio, goddammit. Atsumu certainly didn’t need to see their newly-updated profile pictures of their date after their game this noon, or how Tobio’s stupid scent is all over Shouyou when he’s back at the dorms.

The lights are suddenly on without warning, and Atsumu squints his eyes from the sudden intrusion. Sakusa is standing near the switch with a mug on his hand.

“Miya,” he says, impassively. “Again?”

“Turn the lights off, Omi. It’s too bright.”

“It’s called a common room and you don’t make the rules.”

Unfortunately for Sakusa, Atsumu is not in the mood to deal with his bullshit. He clicks his tongue in annoyance and returns his attention to the TV in silence.

The room becomes dark again after. Sakusa sits on the couch adjacent to Atsumu, joining him watching the movie uninvited. Atsumu looks at him disgruntledly, but as long as Sakusa keeps his pretty mouth shut, Atsumu doesn’t care.

“Is this about Hinata?”

Atsumu winces. Straight to the point and straight to the heart too. He doesn’t reply and opts to gobble down his last nigiri in one big bite.

“You do notice that they’ve been flirting around since a few months back, right?”

Of course, he notices. Contrary to what people believe, he’s not an absolute idiot. Atsumu glares, pouring every bit of menace he has inside him. “If yer just here to make me feel worse ‘bout myself, leave. I’m doin’ that to myself already. Fuck off, Sakusa.”

Sakusa’s lips form into a tight line. Atsumu takes the carton of umeshu, swallowing three huge gulps out of it, and buries himself deeper from the mountain of blankets. Maybe that’s enough to tell Sakusa to piss off.

“Sorry,” Sakusa mumbles, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Did he hear it wrong? Sakusa has just apologised. To him. Atsumu. The bane of his existence. Atsumu furrows his brows and peeks into the hole of the box.

Okay. Maybe he has drunk too much of it already.

Atsumu takes in a deep breath and sighs. “Look, I’m just bein’ extra pissy right now. Ya don’t really hafta apologise.”

Sakusa nods, and Atsumu continues to watch the movie. In the silence, Sakusa’s presence is unexpectedly calming. It almost reminds him of Osamu’s constant presence in the bunk bed below, and just by being there, he gives Atsumu some kind of sense of security. He won’t ever admit it in a million years, not to anyone, but Atsumu misses Osamu.

Maybe, just by having anyone around during times like this can be fulfilling enough.

“Do ya wanna hear about it?”

Sakusa turns to him, cautious. He doesn’t answer, but having Sakusa’s attention is good enough, Atsumu supposes.

“But before that… do ya think that I’m really that obvious? About Shouyou-kun, I mean.”

“…As someone who meets both of you almost every day, I can’t say I didn’t notice things.”

“And do ya think the others know ‘bout it too?”

Sakusa stays silent for a moment before he shakes his head softly. “Maybe not.”

Atsumu doesn’t need anyone to pity him, and thankfully, he doesn’t need to worry about that when it comes to Sakusa. “Shouyou-kun is a really nice guy. We get along real well. I thought that bein’ his teammate meant that I would’ve have more chance than Tobio-kun. But then again, Shouyou-kun’s an omega, I’m an omega, and Tobio-kun’s an alpha. So… yeah.”

He takes one of the blankets and covers his head with it, leaving only his face visible in the heaps of blankets. He feels like crying again.

“I don’t think it has anything to do with second genders,” Sakusa responds. “Hinata has always been infatuated with Kageyama for a long time. Feelings are not something that you compete on, Miya. It doesn’t work that way.”

Sakusa’s words send a pang to his chest, and Atsumu wants to be mad at Sakusa because he’s true. Shouyou always has his eyes on Tobio only, ever since Atsumu met him for the first time during their showdown in the Spring Tournament of his second year. All this time, he’s just pretending that he didn’t see it and convinces himself that somehow, Shouyou’s feelings could change.

“You’re right.” Atsumu pots, admitting his defeat. “I hate you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“What about you? Have ya ever had a one-sided love?”

He gives him a deadpan look. “Do I look like I have?”

“Maybe. Or not. I don’t know. Ya tell me, Omi-kun. I can’t tell what’s runnin’ inside that head of yers.”

Atsumu waits for Sakusa to answer, though he’s not expecting him to. He turns to see the movie credits rolling on the screen and turns off the TV. Atsumu throws the remote close enough to Sakusa to reach and takes the leftover boxes away from the table.

“I’m returnin’ in first,” he states, grabbing the blankets and throwing it through his shoulder. “G’night, Omi-kun. And thank you, I guess.”

“Good night, Miya.”

Atsumu waves and he walks away with a lighter weight on his shoulders.

Maybe Sakusa Kiyoomi is not as bad as Atsumu initially thought.

* * *

Atsumu immediately keeps his distance from Shouyou the day after Atsumu finds out he is dating Kageyama. Dumping his heartbreak to Sakusa at midnight had unexpectedly helped a lot. However, nevertheless, he still calls Osamu that evening to bawl his eyes out.

“Ugh, ‘Samu, I still can’t believe I lost to Tobio-kun.”

Atsumu blows his nose. Even when Atsumu can’t see him, he can tell that Osamu is making a disgusted expression.

“‘Tsumu. Ya cried for hours yesterday. Wasn’t that enough for a heartbreak?”

“I wouldn’t be if it’s not for Tobio-kun! Tell me ‘Samu, in what ways do I lose to _him?_ ”

“Ya really want me to say it out loud?” Osamu asks, exasperatedly. “Fine. First of all, he’s currently the number one setter-”

“Okay, stop. Stop. I don’t want to hear that,” Atsumu hisses, clicking his tongue. “I don’t feel like cryin’ anymore. I want revenge. _Vengeance._ I _will_ crush Tobio-kun and be on top.”

Osamu laughs.

“How do I move on again?”

“I dunno. All ya did is cryin’ for five days straight every night after Arai-senpai broke up with ya.”

Arai was the beautiful and powerful omega of Inarizaki’s girls' volleyball. She was a wing spiker and ace whom Atsumu had dated. Arai broke him up right after Inarizaki lost at the Nationals during his second year because there was an alpha from the baseball team who took an interest in her. She was his first girlfriend and his first love and having his first heartbreak, he cried a lot. Osamu got tired of it by the third day and ignored his cries for the sake of sleeping. But one day, when Suna was visiting their house, he stole all of Atsumu’s snacks along with Osamu. They fought, got bruises and scratches all over, got yelled at by his mother, and with the burning temptation to strangle Osamu on the bunk bed below, he didn’t remember crying that night.

“Oh, I remember. It was _you._ I was so pissed at ya and Rintarou for eatin’ all of my snacks that I forgot to cry.”

“Yer welcome.”

“Ya both still haven’t paid me back for those snacks.”

“But ya still gotta meet him everyday, right?” Osamu continues, ignoring Atsumu in purpose, “He’s yer teammate and all. Ya need to talk to him.”

“Talk about what?”

“Talk about yer feelings. Get a proper rejection or somethin’.”

Atsumu pauses. Osamu is actually making sense and being helpful every once in a while.

“Ya know, ya actually bein’ a real good brother right now.”

Osamu snorts. “Aren’t I always? I’m not you.”

“Nah, most of the time ya just piss me off.”

“I don’t wanna hear that from ya.”

Atsumu hears some shuffling from Osamu’s line, followed by some metals clanking in the background. The alarm clock on his bedside table shows 10.08 P.M.

“Ya still in the shop, ‘Samu?”

“Yeah. Tryin’ some new recipes. ‘m plannin’ ta introduce some more of local ingredients for my stand in the summer festival.”

“Speaking of food, I want to eat yer special double fatty tuna onigiri. When will ya come to Kobe again?”

“Next week, probably. Mum is coming too.”

There’s the sound of the stove turning on, Osamu chopping something, and the splash from the tap water pouring down the sink. The sounds are mundane, familiar to Atsumu’s ears, giving him a moment of relaxation. They stay quiet, none of them disconnecting the call.

Atsumu finally breaks it off first, intending to let Osamu focus on his recipe trials. “I’ll leave ya at it. G’night, ‘Samu.”

“Okay. G’night, ‘Tsumu.”

Atsumu clicks on the end call button of their call. He returns to his chat list, opening a chatroom with Shouyou, and sends him a message.

**Shouyou <3**

_Shouyou-kun(^_ _０_ _^)_ _ノ_

_Are you free right now?_

_yes!_

_im only watching some games_

_Do you want to grab some drinks?_

_I want to talk to you about something(_ _・_ _ω_ _・_ _)_

_okay!_

_right now?_

_Yeah_

_I’ll wait for you downstairs_

_[You sent a sticker]_

_okay atsumu san!_

_ill be ready in 5 mins_

Atsumu changes his clothes, grabs his wallet, and goes downstairs. He meets Sakusa who’s walking up the stairs.

“Heya, Omi-kun.”

“Miya,” he replies and resumes his way back up.

Atsumu waits for Shouyou by the _genkan,_ and doesn’t have to wait for long before he hears Shouyou’s cheery voice.

“Sorry for making you wait, Atsumu-san!”

“Don’t worry about it, Shouyou-kun.”

Atsumu takes them both out to a quiet place within walking distance from their dorms instead of the team’s usual _izakaya._

And so, they talk.

* * *

**(tw// vomiting)**

Kiyoomi wakes up in the middle of the night with cold sweat drenching his clothes. There is something wrong with him. It's been a while since he had last experienced this dreading feeling in the back of his throat, accompanied by a churning stomach. The burn threatens to rise from his throat, and before he can make a mess, he grabs his handkerchief and dashes towards the toilet.

Kiyoomi isn't expecting anyone in this late hour. Still, unsurprisingly, he encounters a half-asleep Miya teetering his way out from the toilet.

"Omi-kun?" he calls, but Kiyoomi ignores him in a hurry. He locks himself in a stall, and just after a second, the burning acid from his stomach regurgitates out from his mouth.

"Omi-kun, are ya okay in there?" Miya asks, his tone worried. He must have heard Kiyoomi's sickly noises echoing through the toilet. After several bouts and when Kiyoomi is finally sure there's nothing more, he wipes his mouth with his handkerchief and flushes the excretion away. The acrid taste still lingers in his mouth, and it feels horrid.

When Kiyoomi opens the door, Miya is standing there, holding a glass of water and some tissues.

"Here," he says, offering the glass. Kiyoomi takes it and rinses his mouth with it. "I'll make something for ya. Wait here."

Miya leaves, and Kiyoomi returns to his room - fetching his toothbrush, toothpaste, and mouthwash - and cleans his mouth. He contemplates what he ate wrong the day before - the dorm's standard rice, eggs, fish, and miso soup for breakfast; the curry for lunch; and the udon for dinner. The curry he had for lunch was from a place that the team regularly eats, while the udon is from a small place inside the alley that they had never visited before.

It _must_ be the udon. Kiyoomi was sceptical of the place when they entered the small shop, and most likely, he's correct.

Still feeling weak and sick, all he wants is to collapse back into his bed.

"Geez, I told ya to wait," Miya says, just before Kiyoomi turns the knob of his room. "Here. It's salt and sugar. Might be helpful after that horrible brawl."

A rehydration solution. Miya is unexpectedly… thoughtful.

"I'm impressed that you actually know this kind of stuff."

"Come on," he whines, rolling his eyes. "Shouldn't ya give me more credit by now? We're _athletes,_ Omi-kun. I can't believe ya still can diss me out when yer sick like this."

Kiyoomi gulps down the warm liquid, sweet and salt tickling his tongue. He feels better already.

"What happened ta ya, anyways? Do ya have a fever?"

"I don't think so," he says, placing the back of his hand on his forehead and neck. "It's probably some food poisoning."

"Ah, I knew it was the udon. My stomach was feeling funny when I went to sleep."

"Yes, the udon." Kiyoomi passes the glass back to Miya. "I shouldn't be keeping you up this late."

"It's okay," Miya hums, _winking_. "Consider it's me returnin' the favour for listenin' to me that night."

 _Oh,_ Miya's unreciprocated feelings _._ Kiyoomi then recalls the evening when he encountered Miya on the stairwell, followed by Hinata. The interaction between them returns to normal the day after. Whatever they did that night must have gone well.

"Sure."

"G'night, Omi-kun. Hope ya get well soon."

"Thanks."

Miya waits for him until Kiyoomi closes the door. Perhaps Miya was right. Kiyoomi does have to give him more credit for being a decent person.

He flops into the bed and falls asleep while thinking about the last time he had anyone looking after him when he's not feeling well.

* * *

While the four of them - Atsumu, Bokuto, Shouyou, and Sakusa - tend to sit together during meals, Atsumu usually sits with anyone available in the cafeteria. He can have different eating partners if his usual squad is not available.

In other words, he likes to bother people who eat alone. His regular victim would be the captain, Meian, who often eats a bit later than everyone else, or lately, Sakusa.

MSBY Black Jackals emerged as the victorious team for this year’s V.League, which had been unforeseen with their two new members on the team. For the first time in three consecutive years, Schweiden Adlers is dethroned from their throne. They had two and a half weeks of off-season after the League ended, and Atsumu returned to Hyogo to visit his mother, Osamu, and the former Inarizaki team.

When they get back in Osaka, Coach Foster evaluates their games during the League by playing the recordings and points out several things that can be improved for their upcoming matches in summer. Reconditioning back to their practice schedule, Atsumu has been staying late after practice, which Sakusa regularly joins, and thus, they often have a late-dinner session together.

“We have grilled mackerel for today. Neat.” Atsumu takes his tray, portion of food neatly covered with a plastic foil.

Sakusa says nothing and sits across him. He picks up his chopsticks, quietly mumbles _itadakimasu,_ and takes a bite from his bowl of rice. Atsumu slurps the warm miso soup, and that’s when he spots something moving in the table behind Sakusa.

It’s brown and has the size of a thumb. A cockroach, crawling here and there, probably eating the food crumbs on the table. Meanwhile, Sakusa is pleasantly eating his meal without any care in the world, and it’s better if he stays that way. Atsumu turns back to his own meal, hoping Sakusa won’t notice the insect until they leave the cafeteria, and for the cockroach to stay peacefully on the table without approaching theirs.

By the time Atsumu finishes his meal, the cockroach has disappeared. Again, Atsumu hopes it’s nowhere near their table.

“Omi-kun, are ya done with yer meal? I’ll take yer tray together with mine to the back.”

It’s uncharacteristic for Atsumu to offer help cleaning up. It’s no wonder if Sakusa is suspicious of him.

“What are you planning to do, Miya?”

“I’m not planning anythin’,” Atsumu denies, hoping that Sakusa can let it slide. “I just feel like bein’ nice today.”

Sakusa keeps his stare for a moment longer, and he stands up, carrying the tray with him. “I can do it myself.”

“Ah… okay.”

Atsumu follows quietly from behind, eagle eyes watching for the insect’s appearance. He sags in relief when they successfully put their trays aside, and all they need to do now is to quickly exit the kitchen-

“What the- _FUCK_ -!”

Atsumu bumps on Sakusa’s back, and in a second, he is gone from Atsumu’s line of sight. Two hands are now gripping Atsumu’s shoulders from behind, shakily pushing him forward.

There’s the cockroach, _flying,_ landing in the middle of the doorway like it owns the place, scaring the shit out of Sakusa that he shouts a curse word.

“Miya, kill that atrocious _thing._ But don’t squash it. You’ll spread germs and parasites otherwise.”

If it were anyone else, Atsumu would find it funny. But this is Sakusa, the guy who wouldn’t hesitate to set the whole dormitory on fire just to kill one cockroach. He had Hoshiumi with him during that cockroach incident at All-Japan Youth Camp, but Atsumu has no one with him now, and he’s not sure he can stop an alpha in the middle of his panic episode all alone.

Atsumu nudges Sakusa to move further back. “Yeah, yeah. Back off, Omi.”

He crouches down near the insect, grabs it swiftly, and slams it to the ground - effectively killing it on the spot fully intact.

“Miya, have you gone crazy? You’re killing it with _bare hands-!_ ”

Germs and parasites be damned. Atsumu kills cockroaches all the time with Osamu, and they have never gotten sick doing so. “Well duh, what else am I supposed to kill it with? I can’t step on it because ya told me to not squash it.”

With his fingers, Atsumu picks up its antennae and throws it into the bin. He washes his hand with soap right after. Sakusa awaits with his hand sanitiser, pouring it generously into Atsumu’s palm. He looks so relieved from his distress like Atsumu literally saved his life or something.

“Thanks. But don’t come near me. And here, spray it to the place where you’ve thrown it.”

Atsumu takes the alcohol spray, snickering in amusement, and does what he’s told to.

“I’ve been wantin’ to ask this for awhile,” Atsumu says, “What makes ya so dead scared of ‘em, Omi-kun?”

The dreadful look returns. The mask doesn’t mean much in covering his facial expression as Sakusa can communicate perfectly well through the upper half of his face.

“Cockroaches carry pathogenic microbes and parasites that can make you sick. They move fast, lurk around dirty places _._ Disgusting. I swear, people need to learn about hygiene more. Cockroaches won’t exist in clean places.”

Not like Atsumu can relate to what Sakusa’s afraid of. But putting aside his phobia, is it just Atsumu, or does Sakusa talk more lately?

“Teach ‘em how then, Omi-kun.” The image of Sakusa dumping some hand sanitisers and disinfectant wipes into Atsumu’s cart when they shop in the _konbini_ appears in his mind, “Like how ya taught me.”

“Maybe I should.”

Atsumu kind of becoming Sakusa’s personal insect exterminator ever since.

* * *

After-work drinking is a part of Japanese work culture, but they are never Kiyoomi's thing. The crowded _izakaya_ has people shouting in every corner, drunken people laying on the floor, and the suffocating cigarette smoke. Kiyoomi enjoys good alcohol and snacks, but the after-parties can be overwhelming sometimes.

The season is approaching, and Coach Foster whips them into shape ruthlessly. It's that bad if two of their most energetic members, Bokuto and Hinata, are left exhausted. Kiyoomi was sure that he was going to faint during the last fifteen minutes of practice, and miraculously, he managed to survive one way or another. It's completely acceptable for the team to have a mini-celebration in their favourite _izakaya_. As tempting as alcohol sounds, Kiyoomi doesn't have the extra energy to go out for the night.

"Ya sure yer not joinin' us, Omi-kun?" Miya asks. He always does. Miya never leaves without asking him one more time, as if Kiyoomi's answer would change in just a short period.

"No. I'm going back."

His teammates bid their goodbyes, and Kiyoomi returns to the deserted building. He takes a cold shower, and after he's done, he searches for his own stock of beer inside the fridge. To his disdain, only one can is left. Kiyoomi grabs the can, cleans it with disinfecting wipes, and makes himself comfortable on the couch. He surfs the channel and settles into a western crime series.

Kiyoomi hums as he savours the first sip of the beer. The beer's slight bitterness and the tingling senses on his tongue feel refreshing, and he craves for more. The episode isn't halfway through yet when Kiyoomi gulps the last drop of liquid from the can, much to his disappointment.

The episode ends, and as he waits for the next episode, he reads and replies to his emails. Kiyoomi smells smoke and alcohol and hears footsteps approaching him.

"What' cha watchin' Omi-kun?"

It's only ten past twenty in the evening, way too early for anyone to come back. Miya is there, standing around two metres away from where Kiyoomi is, carrying a six-pack of non-alcoholic beer on his right hand and a white bag in the other.

"CSI," Kiyoomi answers, scrunching his nose. "You reek. Go shower."

"I come to bring ya some beers and yer shooin' me away the moment I'm here?"

"No one asks you to."

"Wow," Atsumu dramatically quips, putting the beer and bag on the table. "Thank you, Atsumu. Yer welcome, Omi-omi."

Miya disappears into the stairwell. Kiyoomi initially thought that Miya would leave through the front door to get back to the _izakaya._ But he doesn't, so he's probably going to take a shower.

The beers aren't cold, so Kiyoomi takes out two clear glasses and adds some ice, pouring the beer into the glass. He opens the plastic bag curiously to find several boxes of _konbini_ bought fried snacks, still warm on touch, and a bag of ready-to-eat _edamame._

_How considerate._

A few minutes later, Miya comes back down, his hair damp with a towel hanging on his shoulders. He joins Kiyoomi on the couch, leaving enough space between them, taking out the bag's contents. He passes a single-use wooden chopstick to Kiyoomi.

"It's not drinkin' if there's no snacks, right?"

Miya chomps down a piece of _karaage_ with his chopsticks and gulps down the beer. Kiyoomi hesitantly takes one. Isn't Miya supposed to be partying all night and go home past midnight with the rest of the team? The quiet dormitory doesn't have the _izakaya's_ rowdy atmosphere, alcohol, and fresh finger foods. There is no good reason for him to leave the party early.

"What are you doing here?"

Miya shrugs without sparing him a glance, his eyes focused on the TV. "Ya look like ya really need a drink, Omi-kun. So I brought ya somethin' to make up for yer absence _._ "

"Thank you, I guess. But you don't really have to, Miya."

"Am I hearing things? Omi-kun thanking me? Are you really Omi-kun?" Miya gasps, sending Kiyoomi's eyes twitching in annoyance. "Yer welcome. And I insist, Omi-kun. It sucks drinkin' just by yerself."

 _Sucks?_ Kiyoomi doesn't think it's a terrible thing to drink alone. He does it most of the time, like he always does in everything.

"I'm used to it."

"Just because yer used to it doesn't mean that you hafta be alone. It's always better to have someone, right?"

Miya grins, a smile so natural and genuine reflecting on his features. Something about it sends flutters inside Kiyoomi's chest, and he can't help but peer a little longer.

The corner of his lips curves up a little, and Kiyoomi answers. "Yeah."

* * *

Hotel rooms are typically shared between members with the same second gender, but every once in a while, they will get randomly mixed up for the sake of 'teammate bonding'. Somehow, Atsumu always finds himself being roommates with Sakusa whenever he's not rooming in with Shouyou.

The reason why is most likely to be that Sakusa seems to have bad blood with Atsumu. This room arrangement forces them to spend time together, and maybe the coach and their captain hope that they can get closer that way.

"Looks like we're roomin' in together again, Omi-kun."

Sakusa's eyes bore to the keycard on Atsumu's hand. He had stopped glaring at Atsumu after four times they roomed together. Sakusa must have become used to it by now anyway. Atsumu comes to learn that as long as he avoids taking the bed near the window and lets him use the bathroom first, there's nothing to worry about.

"What floor are we in?"

"Third."

They enter the elevator. Atsumu presses the button for both of them because Sakusa refuses to touch it if he can help it.

"Room?"

"304. We go… right."

Atsumu walks in front, doing the dirty work of swiping the card and opening the door.

"Wash your-"

"Hands. I know Omi-kun. And I'll change my shoes after that. Ya don't need to remind me every time," Atsumu says, putting aside his luggage. "Don't 'cha think even I would get it by now?"

"I don't trust you."

"And no one in particular." Atsumu snorts. Sakusa pesters _everyone_ who is unlucky enough to be stuck with him to follow the routine of washing hands, changing into hotel slippers, spraying their luggage with disinfectant, and taking a shower after he does. Atsumu has always become the ear for Bokuto's complaints - the doomed man who regularly rooms in with Sakusa - whenever he drags Atsumu to go out. _'Omi sprays disinfectant into me because I didn't take a shower!'_ or, _'I forgot that I'm not supposed to use the bathroom first!_ ' or, _'I really don't know what I should do, Tsum-tsum, every time I ramble about something, Omi would glare daggers into me! He's scary!'_.

Not like Atsumu didn't explain what to do and not to do _every single time._

Atsumu waits for Sakusa to exit. He washes his hands with the unopened bar soap - because of course, Sakusa would bring his own hand soap - slips on the white hotel slippers, and flops down to the bed. Sakusa looks at him in disgust, like he always does when Atsumu lies on the bed without taking a bath first.

By the time Atsumu is finished with his shower, Sakusa has made himself comfortable on the bed, a book on his hand.

"Bokkun and Shouyou-kun are going to Lawson's," Atsumu says as a LINE notification pops up. "Ya wanna ask them to get ya somethin', Omi-kun?"

"No," Sakusa answers without sparing him a glance. Atsumu clicks on the group and requests for a bowl of oden. "You're not going to join them?"

"Nah. I'm too lazy to change again when I return. Don't wanna get chastised by ya."

Sakusa frowns, but he's not saying anything. Atsumu opens his drama-streaming app, and without plugging in his earphones, he sets the volume to medium - loud enough to listen but not loud enough to annoy Sakusa. "Besides, a new episode of the drama I'm watching just released today."

They fall into silence, focusing on their activities. This is normal, for them in each other's presence without saying much. The peaceful atmosphere is quite refreshing in contrast to the loud and boisterous team dynamics.

When the doorbell rings, Atsumu grabs his wallet and opens the door. Shouyou is standing in front, Bokuto nowhere in sight.

"Atsumu-san! Here's your oden!"

"Thank you, Shouyou-kun! How much is it?"

"400 yen."

Atsumu passes Hinata two 200 yen coins. "Where's Bokkun?"

"Oh! Akaashi-san called him when we were walking home, so he's in the room having a video call."

"Ya have my condolence, Shouyou-kun," Atsumu empathically smiles. Bokuto gets extra loud whenever he's having a video call with Akaashi. Not to mention they would shamelessly get lovey-dovey with each other like no one is listening. "He's lucky to have us all as next-door neighbours. Ya have yer earphone with ya, right? Play music, call yer boyfriend or something. Make sure to scream like hell too."

Shouyou laughs. "Will do!"

"Bye, then. Good night, Shouyou-kun."

"Good night, Atsumu-san! Oh, and Omi-san too!"

Sakusa replies with a wave and Atsumu closes the door. He places the oden on the table and slurps the hot soup.

"You can hear Bokuto through these walls already," Sakusa mentions, and he closes his book after placing the bookmark.

"If the rooms around Bokkun's aren't ours, _anyone_ would've put a complaint already."

"I would've kicked him out, honestly."

Atsumu wheezes, almost choking on his _konnyaku._ "How d'ya sleep when yer with him, Omi-kun?"

"Earplugs, of course. It's a must-bring item."

It's somehow funny to hear the protests of Bokuto and Sakusa from both sides. "Admit it, Omi-kun, it's much nicer to be with me, hm?"

Sakusa scoffs, rolling his eyes. He turns off his bedside lamp and rolls, his back facing Atsumu. "Speak for yourself."

"Yer goin' to sleep already?"

Sakusa doesn't answer. Atsumu knows he's ignoring him deliberately.

"Fine, whatever. Good night, Omi-kun."

"... Don't sleep within 30 minutes after you eat, Miya."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll take that as a good night from ya."

Sakusa doesn't seem to realise it, but the more Atsumu gets to know him, the more he voluntarily initiates talks with Atsumu. He's sure that he has gotten past through Sakusa's outermost wall. In reality, Sakusa is actually a softie underneath his jerk-like exterior. Most people just get scared or pissed off by him before they get to know him, like Atsumu used to, oblivious to the fact that he is not a bad company to be with.

Without Atsumu realising it, the corner of his lips turns slightly upwards.

It'll be Atsumu's little secret, at least for now.

* * *

In nights after rain, Atsumu likes to go to the rooftop to look at the clear, starry sky. The wet puddles in the dirty, uneven tiles along the smell of rain and the cool breeze are something akin to lunches he had on Inarizaki rooftops. The bouquet of nostalgia and his hometown provides a hearty comfort, and the dorm's rooftop has become Atsumu's quiet, private haven in Osaka.

This night, however, as Atsumu opens the rooftop door, he sees a silhouette leaning on the railings. The curly mop of hair belongs only to one person. Atsumu sneakily approaches the man.

"Hey, Omi-kun," he greets, snickering as Sakusa's back startles in reflex. "What' cha doin' up here?"

"Miya," Sakusa grumbles, and with his mask down, the permanent scowl on his face is visible. "Motoya wants to see the cherry blossoms in Osaka."

"And so? Aren't 'cha goin' back down by now?"

"Yes. But… it's nice being up here."

This night is the first night Atsumu has someone other than himself standing on the rooftop by the railings, looking afar through the quiet night of Higashi-Osaka. Having someone should've felt like an intrusion to his personal sanctuary, yet somehow, Sakusa's presence is not unwelcomed. If anything, he gives off a warm, robust semblance into the cold night that Atsumu appreciates.

"Do you come here often, Miya?"'

Sakusa's eyes are coloured with a genuine curiosity, and the creases in his eyebrows are absent. Atsumu relaxes into him.

"I do, actually. Especially after rain. Reminds me of home."

"Home… Hyogo?"

"Mhm."

"It's not that different from Osaka. It's literally 30 minutes away."

"I'm not talkin' about Kobe!" Atsumu complains, pouting. Kobe, the capital of Hyogo, is easily accessible by train. The team comes there often to visit Onigiri Miya's branch whenever Osamu is on standby. "I'm talkin' about my mum. My home. Or heck, Inarizaki. Ya do realise Hyogo is a big prefecture, right? Go further west, city boy. Japan is bigger than ya think."

Sakusa's lips pursed into a tight line, like he's trying to hold in a laugh." Really, Miya? City boy?"

"Ya Tokyo snobs are callin' for it! Really, I thought it was only Bokkun, but yer even worse. Shouyou-kun is the only one who understands me."

There's a beat of comfortable silence in the air before Sakusa breaks the ice. "Speaking of which… how is it? The thing with you and Hinata, I mean."

"Oh?" Atsumu piques up, interested. It's been months since Atsumu had the conversation about his feelings for Hinata with Sakusa, and it's not every day Sakusa asks questions about his teammates' personal life. "Well, well, aren't 'cha curious, Omi-kun?"

He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and Sakusa clicks his tongue while turning his face away. "Motoya keeps telling me to try to get to know my teammates better. But I'm starting to regret trying."

"Don't be, Omi-kun, I'm just teasin' ya." Atsumu laughs. "Motoya-kun is right. Askin' personal question is a good way to start."

"...Maybe."

"Shouyou-kun, huh…" Atsumu mumbles, gathering his thoughts inside his head, "I moved on much faster than I thought. After that talk with ya, I talked with 'Samu again. And well, remember the night when ya meet me in the stairs? I went drinkin' with Shouyou, and told him about what I feel about him. And of course, he rejected me. Ya wouldn't believe how freakin' _annoying_ Tobio-kun's face the next time I met him, smotherin' his scent all over Shouyou-kun. He purposely rubbin' it in on me." Atsumu pauses from his grumbling and sighs. "But well, that night when I got rejected, is also something like… a night that I said goodbye."

"That's good, then," Sakusa slowly says, "Time tells."

Atsumu hums in agreement.

"How about ya, Omi-kun? I shared ya something personal, and now it's your turn."

The expression on his face turns sour. "Why should I?"

"It's not _getting to know your teammates_ if it only goes one way, Omi-omi. I wanna know more about ya too. So tell me somethin'. Somethin' that makes ya can say that 'time tells'."

Sakusa doesn't reply, turning his gaze upon the scenery instead of Atsumu. Judging by the crease on his brows and pursed lips, he looks conflicted. Atsumu waits.

"I- well, not many people know, but I used to date Wakatoshi-kun."

"Ah." It's something that Atsumu has suspected for a while, and Sakusa confirms about it today. "Go on."

"We dated for a short while when I was in my first year of university. I broke it off when I realised the feeling that I had for Wakatoshi-kun is nothing more than… admiration. Wakatoshi-kun understands, and we broke up on good terms. We're still good friends until now."

Atsumu takes Sakusa's answer in a short revelation. Sakusa _can_ acknowledge someone as his good friend. Atsumu wonders whether Sakusa considers any of his teammates as his friend too.

But it's a question that will have to wait.

"I see," Atsumu replies, "I've experienced somethin' like that too during high school. Sometimes it's hard to say if ya really like someone or if there's somethin' else lyin' underneath it, right?"

"I agree."

"And so, yer like, interested in alphas? Male?"

"I prefer to say that I don't have a particular orientation for second genders. But yes, I prefer males."

That's new. It's nice to have Sakusa talk about himself, revealing things that Atsumu didn't know before.

And the more crumbs Sakusa offers him, Atsumu craves for more.

"Really? Tell me about it. What do ya find interesting in datin' an alpha?"

"Nothing much. Wakatoshi-kun is my only ex, so I don't have a comparison."

"Go date someone, then." Atsumu shrugs nonchalantly. They're at the age where they're supposed to go to blind dates to get someone, anyways.

Sakusa glares at him exasperatedly in return. "You're saying it like it's the easiest thing to do."

"Well, it _is_ easy! All ya hafta do is sign up for _goukon_ and introduce yerself. Talk about yer volleyball career. Then ask them about theirs too. What they do, what they like. The point is still the same, _getting to know each other,_ y'know, like what we're doin' right now."

"Why don't _you_ date someone, then."

"I used to," Atsumu answers, thinking back about the exes that he had. Arai, the girls' volleyball ace he dated during his first year; Kento, the captain of the baseball team who he dated briefly during his second year; Ichika, a classmate who confessed to him; Eiji, his junior on the football team by the time he's a third-year; and finally, Naoki, a setter from a neighbouring school whom he dated on the last semester of his high school until Atsumu's first year in MSBY. "But none of them really last. Maybe because I date mostly omegas. Some betas."

"No alphas?"

"Never really interested, so I don't look for alphas."

It's not rare for the people around him asking whether he dates alphas or not. Sure, there are crushes here and there, but _crushes_ don't last, and they come and go every single time.

Just like Atsumu's crush on Rintarou, or Kita.

Besides, Atsumu would be lying if he says he doesn't have a tiny crush on Sakusa, or if Sakusa isn't attractive. His stunning looks and the damned curves of his muscles are the embodiment of Atsumu's ideal type, and furthermore, Sakusa doesn't carry himself like an alpha douche who reeks of ego, arrogance, and dominance.

It's just natural to have crushes on attractive people, and thus, Atsumu doesn't take it seriously.

"Say, do you have a special someone, Omi-kun?"

"No. And I'm not looking for one."

"I agree with you on that," Atsumu continues, "The more I play, the more I want to focus playin' first. Havin' a partner comes later, as tempting as it sounds."

"True. Careers come first."

The civil atmosphere is pleasantly cordial, yet Atsumu can't hold the itch to roll his tongue. "Yer bein' unbelievably agreeable tonight, Omi-kun. It's scarin' me a bit."

Sakusa gives him a dirty look and pulls the mask back onto his face. "Just when I thought you're being unbelievably tolerable tonight, you just have to ruin everything."

Atsumu laughs heartily. The cloudy, sad skies have once again started pouring its tears to the ground with slow, rhythmical drops, splashing unto the puddles and unto Atsumu's head. He then remembers the weather forecast this morning about an evening downpour. Within minutes, heavy rain would probably occupy the weather until midnight.

Sakusa pushes himself away from the ledge and turns to walk away. "It's drizzling. I'm returning first."

"Yeah, ya do that," Atsumu waves him off, and returns to look at the scenery. "I'm stayin' for another while."

"Don't get sick, Miya."

"No promises, Omi-kun. If I do, you'll take care of me too, wouldn't 'cha?"

"As if."

Atsumu chuckles lightly in Sakusa's response as he turns away towards the door. Now, Atsumu is alone on the rooftop, thoughts about Sakusa preoccupying his mind.

Because there's something about him that makes Atsumu ponder if this crush would stay _just a crush_ for long.

* * *

One year has passed since Kiyoomi joined the team, and so does his obligation to stay in the dorms. _Finally._ The day has finally come for Kiyoomi to move away. He has listed the possible places near the training facility to save up transportation fees and plans to look over the apartments by the weekend when there’s no practice.

Kiyoomi is ready to leave when his mother calls.

“Hello?”

_“Hello, good morning, Kiyoomi. How are you?”_

“I’m good, mum. How about you?”

_“A bit tired. I just got back from Sendai.”_

“Don’t keep overworking yourself, mum.”

_“Don’t worry about me. It’s supposed to be my job to worry.”_

Kiyoomi removes his shoes and goes back to sit on the chair.

_“Anyways, what are you doing for today?”_

“I was just about to go out to look for apartments. It’s been a year, and I want to get out of the dorms.”

_“You never told me about wanting to move out! I just bought a place in Osaka a month ago.”_

“What,” Kiyoomi deadpans. Talk about his mother and not telling anyone that she bought a new apartment, again. “You didn’t tell me you have a place here. Does dad know?”

_“Yes, yes, it’s actually him who recommends this place. You know I’ve been going to Osaka a lot for work, and having my own place is much better than spending nights in a hotel room. It’s near Kyuhoji Station- here wait, I’ll send the address to you-”_

A message notification from his mother on LINE pops up, and Kiyoomi opens the address on his map application. It’s around half-an-hour away by train, nearer to the training facility than to the heart of Osaka.

“I thought you would’ve bought a place in Namba, or Umeda.”

_“This place is brand new. They rebuilt an old apartment there, and with the discount they’re offering, I can’t resist. It’s fully furnished and scent-proof too, so it’s perfectly safe for you to spend your ruts there without having to book a rut hotel. Having you there is better than leaving it empty when I’m not staying.”_

He’s already twenty-three - a fully-fledged adult with a job and his own income and all - and honestly, Kiyoomi prefers to rent his own place rather than relying on his parents’ properties. It doesn’t sound all that… adult-like.

“That’s nice, mum, really, thank you. But I think I can find a place on my own.”

“... _You’re not thinking of finding your own place because you think it’s shameful to live in your parents’ house, now are you?_ ”

Bingo. Kiyoomi goes silent, pursing his lips behind his mask. It’s a wonder how his whole family can see pass through whatever he’s thinking. Sometimes, Kiyoomi believes it’s unfortunate to be the youngest, as he’s constantly being babied by the rest of his family.

“ _Now, Kiyoomi, there’s nothing embarrassing about it. I know you’re all grown up and all, and you may think that you don’t want to be a burden anymore, but listen here. Your dad and I only want to give the best for our children. Neither of you and your siblings are a burden to us. You can just save up to buy your own place soon._ ”

Kiyoomi hums, considering his mother’s offer. Like she senses some hesitation in him, she continues, “ _I stayed in your grandmother’s house until I got married to your father. He used to stay with his parents too until he started to have a stable job and income by twenty-five. There’s no such thing for being too old to live under your parents._ ”

His mother has a gift of persuasion. No wonder she managed to have his father’s wealthy parents grant their permission for their son to marry a commoner alpha like her back then. In the end, just like Kiyoomi’s grandparents, he relents.

“Okay. I’ll take a look at it.”

_“You’ll love it, I’m sure. I’ll send you the code.”_

“Thanks, mum.”

_“Anytime! I’m dropping off to Osaka too next month, so I’ll see you soon!”_

“See you soon.”

The phone clicks as the line disconnects and Kiyoomi marches his way towards the station.

* * *

When Kiyoomi spills the news of him moving, Meian insists on lending his car rather than renting a moving truck since he doesn’t have many belongings. A car is more than enough for two medium cardboard boxes and one large suitcase. Kiyoomi opts to do the moving alone, given that an extra helping hand isn’t really needed, and he doesn’t want any of them lurking around his apartment.

“You’re the only one who’s not going to stay here, Omi-omi! Aren’t you going to feel lonely later?” Bokuto asks, putting one of the boxes into the car trunk. “It’s gonna be lonely without you!”

Kiyoomi heaves up the suitcase, placing it beside the box. “No. I don’t even participate much in the team outings, Bokuto-san.”

“But still!”

Miya puts in the other box and closes the trunk shut. “It’s sure gonna be different without ya here. And are ya sure this is all ya got, Omi-kun?”

“Yes, I left some of my stuff in the room. For both of your information, I’m still staying here if practice starts in early mornings.”

Both of them seem to lighten up upon his statement, and a traitorous wave of gratification swells inside Kiyoomi’s chest.

“That’s good to hear!” Miya beams, almost too happily, “Well then, drive safe, Omi-kun! Don’t forget to greet your neighbours!”

Kiyoomi bids his thanks to his teammates who deliver him off in the parking lot and drive away.

* * *

After watching one-hour worth of _mukbang_ videos on YouTube in the dark, Atsumu’s stomach gives up on him, and he leaves his room to look for snacks. In the hallway, the sound of Shouyou talking on the phone and muffled sounds of Inunaki’s laugh echoes. It’s five minutes past midnight, and everyone must have retired to their own chambers, considering their afternoon hectic training.

Atsumu can’t say he’s surprised when he meets Sakusa at the pantry, even if he moved out of the dorms a month ago.

“Nice meetin’ ya again, Omi-kun,” he says, eyeing the electric kettle Sakusa is holding. “If yer boilin’ some, add more water, would ’cha? I want some too.”

“Make it yourself.” Sakusa chides, lacking its usual bite. He fills the kettle fully.

“It’s not hard to say some nice things sometimes, Omi-omi.”

Sakusa packs in some of his tea leaves into an empty tea bag. Atsumu follows suit, taking his box of tea from the cupboard and haphazardly pours two spoons of his tea into his mug.

“So? Why are ya still up tonight? Don’t tell me ya got food poisoning again?”

“Of course not,” he grumbles. “And that was ages ago. My rut’s approaching.”

“Ah- Hey, since when yer schedule sits close to mine, huh?”

“It tends to come late every six months. And why are you still up?”

“Ya never notice? I have a hard time sleepin’ in my pre-heat. Just like when you caught me here in those late-nights. Or else, I’mma be sleepin’ like a rock right now.”

The kettle ticks, indicating that the water is done. Sakusa pours the boiling water into his own mug before passing it to Atsumu. He takes a seat at the dining table, and Atsumu joins him after he rummages the fridge for a plastic bag labelled in his name. He takes out a box of _houjicha_ flavoured Kit-Kat, and munches a whole piece into his mouth. Sakusa looks at him in disbelief while shaking his head softly.

“Ya want some?”

“No thanks.”

“I’ve got these. Ya sure ya don’t want it?”

Atsumu pushes the small package of _umeboshi_ to Sakusa without waiting for his reply. He seems to hesitate before accepting it and opens the packet.

“I don’t know ‘bout ya, but I like munchin’ on somethin’ sweet on my pre-heat. And the tea, too. Makes me feel better.”

“I don’t usually indulge myself in treats,” Sakusa says, popping in one of the _umeboshi_ into his mouth. “But it’s nice every once in a while.”

“Right?” Atsumu grins, and he points to the _umeboshi_. “I still don’t understand why ya like that so much, though.”

“You have a terrible palate.”

“Excuse me? Wow, now you’ve done it, Omi-kun. _No one_ insults my tastes. My twin is a chef and I eat his food. I don’t wanna hear that, especially from ya.”

Atsumu dramatically glares at Sakusa and opens his Jagabee chips with force. Sakusa unexpectedly chuckles along. It’s rare enough to see him smile, much less chuckling, and Atsumu discreetly stares at Sakusa a bit longer. His dark curls shake and fall into his eyes along his every chuckle, and his cheeks - are those _dimples_ Atsumu is seeing?

_Damn, Omi-kun looks real hot._

“Smile looks good on ya, Omi-kun. Ya should do that more.”

Sakusa’s smile has gone almost immediately, replaced by his ever-lasting scowl. Atsumu laughs out loud.

“Ya should see the look on yer face!”

“Shut it, Miya.”

“It was a compliment!”

Atsumu’s laugh subsides. Without any of them saying anything, the sounds of chips crackling in Atsumu’s mouth become the only sound in the room.

“Do you often have hard time sleepin’ on yer pre-rut, Omi-kun?”

“Just sometimes,” he says, shrugging his shoulders, “When the body feels restless.”

“It’s nice ta know that I’m not the only one who suffers these kinds of symptoms. It’s like we’re a match together.” Atsumu winks.

“Ew.”

“Mean as ever, Omi-omi.”

Sakusa doesn’t look much different from usual, unlike Atsumu who’s always a mess during his pre-heat, both physically and emotionally. _Even when an alpha like Omi-kun experience such symptoms, they still have it much better than me._

“Haf’ya ever imagine yerself not being an alpha, Omi-kun?” he randomly asks. It’s his bitter jealousy questioning, and he doesn’t care. “Like if yer able to choose your second gender, what will ya choose?”

“Beta.”

There is no pause or hesitation. Atsumu didn’t expect such an answer coming from Sakusa. “Why?”

“It’s much more convenient.”

“Seriously? I thought you were gonna say somethin’ like, ‘I was born an alpha, so why would I change that?’ or whatever.”

Sakusa rolls his eyes. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

“There must be another reason than that, right?” Atsumu curiously asks, baffled. “I keep asking m’self why I wasn’t born an alpha. Things are much easier when yer one.”

Sakusa raises his eyebrows in question, taking his turn being curious. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, first of all, ya don’t have heats. I mean, yeah, ya have ruts, but I think it’s better to have an inflated dick instead of a loose hole.” Any filter of his vocabulary is off, and Sakusa cringes upon the words. “And then… ya don’t hafta worry about stuff. As an omega, I’m scared whenever my heat is approaching. Like, what if my heat comes early? What if someone corners me then? What if I get pregnant by a random stranger? What if I got claimed by a random alpha? I can’t do anything about it.”

Atsumu chews the walls of his mouth and continues, “Alphas never need to worry about such things, right? Because it’s alphas who hold the control. It’s alphas who can put and revoke their mark on an omega. But there’s nothing an omega can do about it.”

He rests his face on his hand, and his gaze falls emptily into the counter. He has lived his life overshadowed by this sense of powerlessness, and it never changes within time, even when the people around him keep telling him so. His fear and everyone’s societal expectations of an omega are scraping on his opportunities and desires in life.

 _It’s unfair_.

“I… never knew about that.”

Atsumu snorts. “Of course ya don’t. Yer not an omega, duh.”

“No, really. No one talks to me about these things. Not even Motoya. I suppose it provides me with a new insight.” Sakusa’s face remains fairly neutral, if not a bit enlightened, his eyes genuine. “I don’t know how you feel having a… loose hole. But similar to what you’ve said, it’s not the physical part that I have issues about. It’s more of the… mentality. Alpha’s control is based on our instincts, which is out of our conscious control. And it’s exactly what I hate about it. It’s like I don’t have control of my own body when we’re supposed to. Makes me feel like a stranger in my own body.”

There’s finally someone who _understands._ Atsumu bites his lips as his heart thumps a little faster.

 _What is this feeling?_ Atsumu wonders.

“Woah. I’ve never heard an alpha sayin’ stuff like that before. Ya have all the power. Ya can get so much more than bein’ a beta or omega. It’s what makes ya special, y’know? Because even if I wished for it, I could never have that. Not to other people, and not to m’self.”

Atsumu heaves out a sad sigh. All the build-up emotions and frustrations of his buried inferiority complex float up into the surface after so long being left ignored in clouds of dust. He feels bitter, wallowed by self-disappointment, and suddenly, he feels stupid. What would he gain from talking about it? To an _alpha_ , of all people. He could talk to Shouyou or Osamu, but no. He _just_ has to let it loose in front of Sakusa.

Fuck his mood swings and his pre-heat.

He buries his face regret and embarrassment slap his senses, and all he wants to do is run away from Sakusa’s piercing gaze. He stands up suddenly and becomes light-headed, and ignoring it, he grabs his mug and walks away.

“Sorry. It’s stupid. I shouldn’t even talk-”

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Sakusa says, voice raised, cutting his sentence off. Atsumu doesn’t dare to look back. “It’s not stupid to feel things. Or get angry at something you can’t control.”

Slowly, and quietly, Atsumu mumbles, “...Do ya feel it too, Omi-kun?”

“I do. And sometimes, I do feel stupid myself. But...”

“But?”

“It feels better to know that I’m not alone.”

Atsumu lets go of a breath he didn’t realise he’s been holding. He turns to meet Sakusa’s eyes, and for a moment, he gets lost in his dark orbs, swimming in unfamiliar emotions, and Atsumu’s heart picks up its pace. Sakusa is unpredictable, hard to crack, and every piece of his soul he’s shown to Atsumu just makes the greedy part of him want more and more. Atsumu wants to break the crust of his soul and delve into the centre of an enigma Sakusa Kiyoomi really is.

He’s falling deeper into a ravine, settling into the deep, dark place, not knowing a way to swim back to the surface. There’s no mistaking it now. _Atsumu wants to have the alpha in front of him._

He gulps, butterflies dancing in his stomach, and in a shaky breath, he manages to answer Sakusa with a soft, “Me too.”

* * *

Practice passes by as usual. The loud ruckus during practice and in the dorms are the same as usual. The monthly drinking last Friday also passes by as usual.

Kiyoomi is walking out of the gym, along with Bokuto and Hinata in front of him, but it’s... quiet. The walk back to the dormitory is too quiet, the practice lacks a competitive air, and their weekly hangout feels a bit dull. This tranquillity is something that he has wished for months, and when he has it granted, Kiyoomi doesn’t quite enjoy it like how he expected it to be.

The last time he experienced something similar was when Kiyoomi and Motoya graduated from university and went on separate ways to pursue their own career as volleyball athletes in different teams. Motoya had been a constant in his life for more than a decade, and adapting into a new life without him was easier said than done. He regularly sends messages or pictures, and sometimes calls Kiyoomi whenever he’s free to talk about his team, practice, and some blackmailing schemes he allies in with his newfound best friend Suna. Through Motoya’s contact and his teammates, Kiyoomi learns how to cope.

His phone vibrates in his pocket, breaking his moment of reverie, signalling a message notification from Motoya.

**Komori Motoya**

_Kiyoomi!_

_We’re visiting Osaka next month for a practice match_

_I heard from Rintarou that Onigiri Miya is opening a branch in Osaka too next month?_

_Make sure to take me sightseeing(_ _￣_ _▽_ _￣_ _)_

_Oh, and let’s have a match too •̀ v •́_

_You’ve been here already, during our second year of middle school._

_That was ages ago…_

_And it’s just a study tour_

_We didn’t get to go anywhere aside from the historical places_

_[Komori Motoya sent a sticker]_

_Take me to the universal studios or something_

_You’ve never been there too, right?(_ _≧◡≦_ _)_

_We’re not high schoolers anymore._

_ﾉ_ _ಥ_ _益_ _ಥ_ _)_ _ﾉ_

_I haven’t seen you in months and you’re acting like an old man already_

_I’ll just have to_

_Drag you, then (_ _；_ _⌣_ _̀__ _⌣_ _́)_

Kiyoomi shakes his head light-heartedly upon the abundant kaomoji and locks his phone. Motoya can be persistent and stubborn with the things that he wants. He refuses to leave Kiyoomi alone with his antics, which reminds Kiyoomi of-

Oh. _Oh._

So that’s why.

Kiyoomi tucks his hand inside the pocket of his jacket, quickening his pace as his eyebrows are drawn closer together with lips pulled into a tight line behind his mask. He passes Bokuto and Hinata in the process.

“Omi-omi! Why are you in such a hurry?”

“Is something wrong, Omi-san?”

Out of decorum and without looking back, Kiyoomi replies.

“Don’t worry about me.”

An inescapable image of faux-blonde hair, honey eyes, and sunny smile calling Kiyoomi with the stupid nickname pops in his mind.

Kiyoomi clicks his tongue and shakes the image away.

Maybe, Miya Atsumu has inadvertently placed himself in the cracks of Kiyoomi’s life, after all.

* * *

Atsumu particularly likes to spam his Instagram stories and feeds right after his heat ends. How could he not if he looks _that_ good? What's not to love from an everlasting radiance whenever he's met with his reflection on the mirror? Atsumu knows he's good-looking, but the post-heat afterglow is something else.

The morning after Atsumu finishes his heat, he eats breakfast, takes a shower, and intentionally styles his hair for a messy look. He dresses up in a beige-coloured shorts and a white shirt, leaving the buttons undone to reveal his finely refined abs – something that his 394k followers would surely like.

Atsumu opens his hotel room's curtains to adjust the lightning and prepares his phone for a shoot in front of the mirror. He tilts his head and flashes a cheeky grin, moving and changing the angle a little in every shot. Twenty shots later, Atsumu chooses the best one, edits the picture in filters, and posts the photo in his feeds with a simple 'Good Morning!' as his caption.

The likes and comments come flooding within a minute. Atsumu savours it in, reading the kind and lovely comments which makes his morning. Not even snarky comments from his traitorous former-teammates from Inarizaki - _Rintarou,_ in particular - who regularly spams on his comment section can ruin his day.

A LINE notification from his captain, however, sends his bliss away into a panic mess.

**_Team Jackals_ **

_**Shugo Meian:** @Miya Atsumu, don't forget we have practice in half-an-hour._

Atsumu automatically glances to the time – 9.31 A.M - on his phone screen. Atsumu didn't realise so much time had passed since he stepped out of the shower. His captain must have looked into his post.

"Fuck."

Atsumu changes into his jersey hurriedly, doubling it with hoodie and sweatpants, and dumps all of his belongings and nest into the bag. He gulps in a pill and sticks a scent-blocker patch on his nape because there's not enough time for the pills to work just yet. Atsumu exits the room, returns the key for the check-out, and runs into the train station, barely catching up to his train as he dangerously slips through the closing doors. People are looking at him – his scent must be seeping through his clothes - and Atsumu stuffs himself into a corner near the door to avoid the uncomfortable stares. He catches up his breath, filling his lungs with much-needed oxygen. Atsumu is so tired already, and he hasn't even started stretching up.

His stop is only three stations away and Atsumu he dashes out as soon as the door opens. Their gym is a ten-minute walk away from the station, and with him running, he should be able to catch up with the warming-up.

The moment he arrives, Atsumu throws his bag into the locker, removes the outer layer of his clothing, and stomps into the gym, slamming the gym doors open.

"I'm sorry I'm late!"

His teammates, who are in the middle of stretching, have their eyes locked on him. Atsumu's self-consciousness starts to catch up to him – he doesn't look all that shitty, does he?

Shouyou is the one who breaks the silence first. "Atsumu-san, didn't you read our message?"

Message? Atsumu ignored all of the notifications when he checked the time in haste.

"…No?"

"I made a mistake," Meian says, joining his palms in apology. "I forgot that you still have the day off today."

"What date is it today, again?"

"Twenty-seven."

Atsumu has his heat-leave up until today and should've returned for practice tomorrow. He slaps his palm on his face and groans. "I feel like I'm being pranked."

The whole room laughs.

"But you're here now so you can just join us!" Bokuto cheers.

"Well, I suppose so..." Atsumu utters and takes an empty spot to start warming up. He hopes that the patch can hold off his scent until practice ends so his scent won't disturb the team's practice.

Just into one hour of practice, exhaustion takes a toll in Atsumu's body. He hasn't fully recovered from his heat yet, and his whole body aches, particularly his hips. Coach Foster understands and allows him to finish practice early. Atsumu cools down and sits on the sides to watch the rest of his teammates practice. Once in a while, he remarks on any unlucky person who he catches being off.

One of them, surprisingly, is Sakusa. ATsusmu has never seen him like that before. Maybe it's one of those days. He is so out of blue that the coach calls him to after practice has ended.

"Omi-kun, ya suck balls today." Atsumu snarks as Sakusa exits the locker room. "What the hell is with those terrible serves?"

"Shut up, Miya," Sakusa glares. "I didn't ask for your opinions."

"Even high schoolers can do better than ya."

"Says the one who updates his Instagram feed but can't see the date."

"Shut yer mouth, Omi-kun!" Atsumu exclaims, his previous embarrassment floating back to surface.

"Oh, and you still smell, Miya."

Atsumu gets startled by Sakusa's statement. Is that the reason why he's not in the top shape today? His honey-lime's tangy citrus scent can be a bit overwhelming for some, and some people did tell him off about his scent in the past. Atsumu hates how the zest overpowers the sweet - omegas are supposed to smell like flowers, desserts, or sweet-tasting fruits. Moreover, Atsumu can't blame Sakusa for it because it's just natural for unmated alphas to be affected by an omega's scent, much less the heavy lingering scent after their heat.

It's just… the way Sakusa says it sends a pang into Atsumu's chest, and a hidden insecurity mixed with guilt taking shape into the surface.

"… I'm sorry." Atsumu takes another pack of the patch and doubles it on the pre-existing one on his nape. "I took a pill this morning already, so it's not going to leak out tomorrow. For now, I hope addin' another layer can cover it better."

"It's not..." Sakusa pauses, unknown emotions swimming in his eyes that Atsumu can't decipher. He rubs his temples and sighs, and Atsumu waves it off.

Bokuto and Shouyou have been waiting for them outside, and they walk together to their go-to ramen shop. Atsumu orders his usual extra-large ramen with extra-topping, he gobbles in the divine serving of food the moment his bowl arrives. His tongue and stomach have been deprived of good food for a whole week, and this bowl of ramen tastes like heaven.

He's the first one to finish his meal. Bokuto and Shouyou have already ordered their second portion whilst Sakusa is a slow eater. As Atsumu waits for the others, he reads on the comments of his post this morning.

"Wait. Scroll up." Sakusa says, still munching ramen, his eyes focusing on Atsumu's phone screen. Atsumu complies, slowly scrolling up the comment section, and stops when Sakusa tells him to.

"What is it, Omi-kun?"

"Click on that username. The 'sk__yk11' one."

"Okay," Atsumu says, reading the simple 🤩 emoji this person left as a comment. "Hey, why does this person have a similar username as yours?"

Sakusa doesn't answer, but the frown on his face turns deeper the moment he sees the page loaded.

**sk__yk11**

**107 posts 2.57k followers 320 following**

**Kyoko**

**Tokyo, Japan**

**[Follow Back]**

"Is this… This is your older sister, right Omi?" Atsumu asks as he quickly scrolls through the account's post.

"...Yes. Apparently, my siblings _did_ change their usernames similar to mine. I can't believe she's following you."

"Now that you've mentioned it…"

An idea passes through Atsumu's mind. He clicks on his profile and opens his followers' page, typing 'sk__' into the search bar.

**sk__ym15 following**

**sk__yk11 follow**

_Kyoko_

**sk__yt04 follow**

_Sakusa Kyoutarou_

"Apparently yer brother does too." Atsumu snickers, and clicks on the account. Much to Atsumu's dismay, the account is private.

" _What_." Sakusa says, deadpan. "Don't tell me they're following the others too."

"Lemme look."

Atsumu clicks on Bokuto's account, searching for their usernames, followed by Hinata's, Inunaki's, Meian's, Tomas's, and Barnes's.

"They're followin' me, Bokkun, and Shouyou. Are they… our fans?"

Sakusa mumbles something under his breath that Atsumu doesn't catch. "No, nothing like that. Just… ignore them if they happen to comment on something."

Bokuto chimes in, patting on Atsumu's back. "Tsum-tsum! Are you sure you're not going to order more?"

"I'm good. I can't believe ya finished two large bowls yerself, Bokkun. Shouyou-kun, ya too."

"We're just _reaaaally_ hungry today, Atsumu-san!"

"Did' cha both eat breakfast properly?"

"Errr, we both kind of woke up late today, so we missed our breakfast." Shouyou rubs the back of his head and smiles sheepishly.

"Luckily, we found some packs of _kintsuba_ hidden in one of the cupboards! Man, it was a lifesaver."

Atsumu freezes. He then remembers the two packs of back-up _kintsuba_ that he forgot to take back into his room. "Ya guys- _what?_ Give me back _my kintsuba-!_ "

"Eh? It was yours, Tsum-tsum?"

" _Yes._ "

Atsumu gives Bokuto and Shouyou the best glare he can make and as they cower, he orders another bowl of ramen. "You both are paying for this one."

"We will and we're sorry, Atsumu-san!"

He delights in the extra portion of ramen. Food truly tastes more delicious if someone is paying for it.

"Whoa, I'm full!" Atsumu exclaims as they walk out of the shop.

Sakusa walks on beside him, and chides, "Is that surprising? You eat like a barbarian."

"It's a payback for people who steal my food."

"The _kintsuba_ has been there for _months_. I'm willing to bet that you've forgotten about it."

Atsumu looks at Sakusa in disbelief. "Yer scary, Omi-kun."

Sakusa is walking closer to him than usual, and his still-sensitive nose can pick up the subtlest cardamom scent with Sakusa's peculiar underlying cedarwood that is suppressed by the blockers. This cycle is the first time Sakusa has ever lent him his clothes to accompany his heat, and Atsumu swears it's one of the most heavenly scent he ever had inside his nest. Atsumu discreetly inhales deeper in his every breath, and wonders if all of the Sakusa siblings inherit all of the superior genes that Sakusa has.

"Omi-kun, what are yer brother and sister like?"

"They're annoying. The older they get, the more annoying they are. Maybe it's because we get much closer to each other nowadays than we had been when I was younger."

"Yeah, I understand. 'Samu is also the most annoying person that I have in my life. But did ya use to fight with them?"

Sakusa shrugs. "Not really. I'm the youngest. My sister and brother are closer in age. But both of them are alphas, and they fought a lot during high school."

"So they don't really play with ya."

"Yes. When I entered elementary school, they had graduated high school and weren't in the house often. My parents are also busy with work. I stayed in Motoya's place more than my own."

"Ah, that explains why," Atsumu mutters, his curiosity of how Sakusa can be that close to his cousin answered. "And yer family is like, an all-alpha family?"

"Except for my father. He's an omega."

"Oh, I didn't expect that." From his biology class during high-school, Atsumu learnt that it's quite uncommon for a male omega to give birth to more than two babies. "He must be one hell of a dad to raise _three_ alphas."

The look on Sakusa's eyes turns softer, and Atsumu wishes to see what kind of expression Sakusa has under his mask. "You could say that."

Atsumu stays quiet after that, revelling in the pleasant atmosphere and the close space between them. The back of their hands are almost touching, and Atsumu refrains himself from reaching his fingers out to hold Sakusa's hand, and maybe, resting his head on Sakusa's shoulder.

All his thoughts screech into a halt, and he stops on his step as he comes into an irrefutable conclusion:

He likes Sakusa Kiyoomi. The germ-hating, people-hating alpha who has a scent so damn good that Atsumu wants to drown in it. He's an alpha who probably hates the way Atsumu smells too.

Some slick manages to seep out, and Atsumu swears under his breath, desperately hoping that the patches can cover the sudden spike on his scent-

"Miya? Are you alright?"

Atsumu feels like dying a little. _He knows._

"I'm fine. It's practically over anyway, my heat."

"Tell me if something happens," Sakusa mentions, uncharacteristically soft and amicable. "I have some suppressants in my bag."

"Why would ya have a heat suppressant with ya?"

"It's Motoya's. He's the one who put it in, and I just let it sit inside my bag."

"Yeah. Okay. Thanks."

When Atsumu retires for the night, he lies helplessly awake with jumbled thoughts about Sakusa and admits his defeat when he begrudgingly takes out Sakusa's black sweater from his bag. Atsumu falls asleep within minutes by the scent of cardamom and cedarwood enclosing his senses.

* * *

Whenever a team member has their rut or heat approaching, the other members would offer fresh laundries covered with their scents to help them get through their cycle, particularly members without partners, including Kiyoomi.

Truthfully, Kiyoomi doesn't like the idea of lending his clothes out and borrowing other people's clothes. Kiyoomi refused to accept their offer on his first rut since he joined the team, relying purely on Motoya and his father's omega scent to get through it. But the scent wore off after Kiyoomi washes the clothes, and there's no way he's travelling to Tokyo for the sake of having new clothes.

The second time Kiyoomi entered his rut, that time without any comfort from an omega's scent or any scent at all, it was _hell_. He relents on his third cycle. His teammates' clothing is a mix of alpha, beta, and omega's scent - both mated and not - which aids his rut much better than a familial omega's scent alone.

Although lately, there is one particular scent that Kiyoomi has an affinity more to than the others. Various t-shirts and jackets sprawled on the bed, and in his rut-dazed mind and body, he grabs on a soft knitted beige sweater into his face and inhales scent deeply. There's an underlying tint of vanilla beneath the dominant honey-lime, and Kiyoomi drunks on it like an addict as he strokes his throbbing dick, knot starting to form on the shaft. He imagines blonde hair draping on the white pillow sheet, honey-coloured eyes brimming with lust and tears. His pink nipples would perk up into Kiyoomi's touch, and he would savour every part in his body, curves shaping in all the right places. Wanton moans would escape from his red, swollen lips, as his willing body succumbs into Kiyoomi's touch, hands holding his small waist tightly while Kiyoomi presses his dick into his plump cheeks, slowly making its way into the tight, wet hole, and pushes in deeper and deeper until all he can do is begging Kiyoomi to knot him up.

And what else can Kiyoomi do but to comply?

Kiyoomi curses as he reaches his climax and presses a tissue into his dick just before he comes. No matter how much he has come, it never feels satisfying, and it never will until Kiyoomi has a partner in bed. He takes in deep breaths to steady his heartbeat, going limp from his release, having a short break until his hormones go wild again and repeat the endless cycle. Kiyoomi throws away the spoiled tissue into the bin and turns to the side, clutching the sweater like he's hanging on his lifeline, with the rest of the clothing left neglected and forgotten.

There's no use in feeling shame and guilty for using it as Kiyoomi's sexual fantasy anymore. Kiyoomi sighs in defeat.

Miya Atsumu is going to be the death of him.

* * *

Summer almost ends, and Miya's twin brother Osamu opens a new branch of Onigiri Miya in Osaka. Miya has declared that everyone is invited to the opening party, and now, Kiyoomi is sitting by the counter with Motoya. In front of them are two glasses of cold water, an empty plate, and several small bottles of condiments such as soy sauce, chilli powder, and sesame seeds.

Osamu whipped up new variants of onigiris into the menu. Kiyoomi orders a new version of chicken and vegetable onigiri and Motoya orders a fusion-style salmon cream-cheese filling. Only a bite from the generous portion of rice and seaweed is needed to reach the finely marinated chicken meat and vegetables, mixed with _furikake_ that compliments salty seaweed and the sweet taste of the meat. Osamu's cooking skill never fails to astonish Kiyoomi, and he has a deep respect for it. It's not easy to make a simple, home-food of onigiri into an exquisite dining experience.

"Oh, this is really nice. I think I'm ordering some more," Motoya says, halfway through his onigiri. "Do you want another, Kiyoomi?"

Kiyoomi doesn't understand how Motoya is smaller than him when he eats double of Kiyoomi's stomach capacity. Any normal person would be full with one of those enormous onigiris. "No. This onigiri is big enough."

"Atsumu-kun!" Miya, who's helping his twin with the orders around the tables, glances their way upon Motoya's call. "Can I order something more?"

"Of course! Just a sec."

Miya writes down orders from Bokuto's table, takes away the dirty plates to the back of the kitchen, and perches on the counter.

"What do ya have in mind?"

Motoya scans through the 'New Menu' page and points to a picture. "Can I have one more of, uh… smoked salmon and roe onigiri?"

"One smoked salmon and roe," Atsumu shouts, and Osamu confirms it from the back. "Anythin' else?"

"One is enough for now."

Miya gives him a thumbs up and turns his attention to Kiyoomi. "How about ya, Omi-kun? Ya sure one is enough?"

Kiyoomi nods. "I don't have a monster appetite like most of you."

"Okay, but don't be shy if ya changed yer mind. Everythin' is in the house today."

Miya disappears into the back while Motoya tells him about the latest gossip he has acquired, mostly surrounding volleyball players and their relationships, and complains about still being single. Kiyoomi indulges him, listening to all the things that Motoya wants to rant about, including Wakatoshi's current relationship with his former teammate who lives overseas.

This is normal—good food, Motoya as his company, with Kiyoomi offering an ear and commentaries. Talking with Motoya is refreshing instead of draining like when Kiyoomi interacts with people.

Motoya then shows him two Universal Studios tickets, dating three days from today, and gives one to Kiyoomi.

"Rintarou-kun is going there with Osamu-kun, and I don't want to be a third wheeler, so you're coming with me, Kiyoomi."

"Why don't you ask Washio-san or someone else from your team?"

"Most of them have already been there! And they don't want to go back anymore."

Kiyoomi sighs as he reluctantly takes it and puts it in his wallet. Motoya cheers.

"I'm coming over to your place tomorrow, yeah?"

"Do what you want."

There's no use in saying no to Motoya anyways. He will come either way, or he could sulk, and Kiyoomi hates it if he's the one who makes his cheerful cousin down.

His teammates call Motoya's name and promise Kiyoomi that he will be back, Motoya approaches them. On the other hand, Miya droops down to the stool beside him with three pieces of onigiris.

Kiyoomi looks at the giant onigiris in bewilderment. Miyas and their unbelievable stomach capacity.

"I'm beat," he complains, lying his cheeks on the table. "And I'm hella starvin'."

"Then eat."

"I'm goin' to. Pour me some water, will ya, Omi-kun? Pretty please?"

There he goes again, charming Kiyoomi with his doe, warm honey eyes that make it difficult for Kiyoomi to say no. He pours the cold water from the jug unwillingly and lays the glass in front of Miya's face.

 _This_ ought to be an unnormal thing. But acclimating to the conundrum of Miya Atsumu - more than a year now - Kiyoomi supposes that this has become his new kind of normal.

"Thanks."

Miya gulps down the water in one go and reaches for an onigiri with pieces of tuna overflowing on the top. He must have racked out those from Osamu's topping box. The tuna falls down to the plate as he bites into it, and Miya picks it up with his fingers, licking them clean in the process. _How disgusting._

"Don't look at me like that, Omi-omi, I washed my hands clean already."

"I didn't say anything, Miya."

"Yer face gives it away, Omi-kun. Yer not being subtle about it. Oh, and take that onigiri on the left, would ya? It's _umeboshi._ New recipe too. I'm surprised ya didn't order that one."

A while has passed since he finished his portion of onigiri, and an _umeboshi_ flavoured onigiri sounds enticing. Osamu's _umeboshi_ filling onigiri is one of the best he has ever eaten, and Kiyoomi supposes he can fit another one by now. He cleans his hand with some hand sanitiser and munches on it. As they eat, Miya would talk, and Kiyoomi would scold him to stop talking while eating, and when they're done, Kiyoomi passes one of his disinfecting wipes to Miya also.

Motoya comes back not long after, engaging in a conversation with Miya, exchanging several unwanted stories about Kiyoomi, much to his chagrin. Miya finally leaves when Suna calls for him to come.

Motoya is smiling gleefully and says, "What a progress from you, Kiyoomi! The last time I met up with you and Atsumu-kun, I was sure you're going to kill him sooner than later."

Now that Motoya mentions it, since when did Miya's obnoxious presence become something trivial? Since when did exchanging wipes when they're eating become a natural thing? Since when did Kiyoomi crave to be around him more and more?

Kiyoomi can't seem to find the answer to those questions.

"This team must have given you a lot of good influence, with the energy and all."

"How's so?"

"I mean, you've been replying to my messages and picking up my calls more. You tell me stories about your day. I feel like you've been opening up about yourself and you're like… happier lately."

Does he really? Kiyoomi doesn't notice a thing. He feels lost.

Motoya chuckles, patting him on the back. "Don't think too much about it, Kiyoomi. Just keep up whatever you're doing right now."

The sounds of chairs moving in the background turn their attention away to the tables behind. Their teammates are preparing to leave. It's almost half-past eleven, and Kiyoomi didn't realise that so much time has passed.

"Ah, I'm leaving first then. See you tomorrow!" Motoya waves him goodbye, and together with the rest of his teammates, they bid their thanks to Osamu. Suna stays behind, aiding the twins with the cleaning up, while Hinata is still in the restaurant, talking to Osamu about something.

When Hinata is done, he approaches Kiyoomi and asks, "Do you want to go back now, Omi-san?"

Kiyoomi nods and picks up his bag, intending to leave, but Miya appears in front of the counter before he could. "Omi-kun, wait for me."

"Why should I?" Kiyoomi asks, gaze falling into Atsumu's face boringly.

"I always waited for ya after practice! Is this how ya goin' to repay my kindness?" Miya exclaims, dashing towards the back. "I don't wanna walk back alone."

"Didn't ask you to." Kiyoomi mumbles. Hinata laughs and excuses himself first.

Kiyoomi could just leave if he truly wants to. Instead, he sighs, and slumps on a stool near the exit.

Osamu is behind the counter with Suna. Kiyoomi can feel two pairs of eyes watching him intently with an unreadable expression on their face. He tries his best to ignore the uncomfortable stare. When Kiyoomi has enough, he turns to meet raised eyebrows and a pair of smirks.

He doesn't know what they are thinking about from their overt study of Kiyoomi, but he doesn't want to know, and Kiyoomi believes he's better off not knowing.

"I'm done! Let's go, Omi-kun," Miya says, minutes later, with his bag hanging in his shoulders. He turns to Osamu and Suna and waves them goodbye. "We're goin' to head back first! Oh, and I'm droppin' in to yer place tomorrow, 'Samu."

"Yer not welcomed. Now get out of my store."

Kiyoomi stifles in a laugh at Osamu's reply, hoping that it would go unnoticed, but Miya's glare says otherwise. "I know yer laughin' at me! Don't pretend yer not! And 'Samu, I'll barge in anyway, I know where ya put yer keys!"

Miya sticks his tongue out, like the man-child he is. Kiyoomi turns to leave.

"Thank you for the hospitality tonight, Osamu-san."

"Yer welcome. Thank you for comin', Sakusa-san. I'm counting on ya to help me drag 'Tsumu's dirty feet outta here."

Kiyoomi throws Suna a nod in which he returns and exits the door. Several steps into the pavement and as expected, Miya comes catching up to him.

"Thanks for waitin' for me, Omi-kun."

Kiyoomi hums in reply as he falls closer into Miya's space.

There's just something about Miya's honest smile, radiating an ardour that lures Kiyoomi in, unable to keep his distance away.

* * *

Out of a million things Kiyoomi has concern about, his current one is how to reject gifts from his fans.

Kiyoomi appreciates the effort his fans give for the gifts, but there are a lot of homemade chocolates and desserts which Kiyoomi doesn’t trust. What if they made it without washing their hands? What if the kitchen is unclean? What if they use the same cutting board to cut raw meat and fruits? What if they sneezed or cough unintentionally during cooking and left viruses or bacterias in the food?

Their PR manager announced earlier today that they will be holding their tri-monthly fan meeting event next week. She had personally reprimanded Kiyoomi to smile and be nicer to his fans this time because he unintentionally made one of them cry last time.

The day of the meeting arrives, and Kiyoomi waves awkwardly to the fans calling for his name as he tries his best to smile, like the ones his teammates taught him to. They enthusiastically surround him, and thankfully, one of the PR staff tells them to form a line. Kiyoomi’s job now is to sign the boards, posing for photos with the fans, and finally, accepting gifts.

“Sakusa-san, thank you for your hard work as always. Please accept our gift!”

The girl, who comes with her group, brings a bouquet of flowers and a box of cake. The box has no bakery name printed on it, and Kiyoomi suspects it to be homemade. He accepts the flower while eyeing the box being offered to him, and he hesitantly says, “Thank you very much for your support and for the gifts. I appreciate it. But, uh, about the cake-”

The girls smile happily and move the box closer to him. “It’s homemade, Sakusa-san, we made it together!”

Kiyoomi thinks about any reason to reject it. Should he pretend to be sick? The bright smiles only make Kiyoomi feel more guilty.

“Oh, thank you, that’s very… considerate of you. The thing is, I kind of-”

“I’m really sorry guys,” a voice says, and Miya appears beside him. “That’s very kind of you, but I’m afraid Omi-kun won’t be able to receive food as gifts. He just got a terrible food poisoning recently, and the doctor says that he has to look after what he eats. How about a photo with him and the cake, and ya guys can eat the cake together for later?”

For the first time, Kiyoomi thanked the gods for Miya’s interruption and talent to appease fans. Miya flatters them with a wide grin, and without any disappointment, the girls seem to understand.

“Oh, thank you for telling us, Miya-san. We’re really sorry, and we hope you can get better soon, Sakusa-san!”

“I’ll help ya guys for the photo.” Miya offers a hand, and one of them gives him her phone. They scuttle around Kiyoomi, minding their distance, and pose for the photo. “One, two, three!”

Miya returns to his own crowd after he returns the phone, and the girls leave with the cake and smiles on their faces. “Thank you for your time, Sakusa-san!”

“Thank you again for your support. I hope you all have a good day.”

Once the news is spread about Kiyoomi’s ‘food poisoning’, his fans wish for him to get better soon, some of them giving vitamins and a bottle of water instead of food. They finish by the evening and return to the bus, carrying bags of items on their hands. When Kiyoomi enters the bus, Miya is already sitting on the back, playing his phone with earphones plugging on his ears. Kiyoomi takes a seat in front of him and turns to Miya.

“Miya.”

He doesn’t respond. Kiyoomi waves a hand in front him, and Miya looks up, removing one of the earphones from his ear.

“Omi-kun? What’s up?”

“Thank you. For before.”

Miya pauses for a second before giving Kiyoomi a soft smile. “Happy to help. Ya look like yer dyin’ a little back there, Omi-kun.”

“But still, food poisoning? Can’t you let it go?”

“Nope. It whipped the food away for today though. I still think it’s a shame, that cake looks hella delicious.”

The engine whirrs and the bus moves. Kiyoomi turns back into his seat, the corners of his lips twitch upwards, and a breath escapes through a gap between his lips. Miya is irritating, and at the same time, he has helped Kiyoomi a lot in the past year. It’s never about something big or significant, and Kiyoomi appreciates every small thing, along with the tepid hum that follows.

His phone is buzzing inside his pocket, flooding with notifications from Kiyoomi’s social media, and Kiyoomi looks over the pictures his fans have tagged him in. Today went incredibly well, much better than his last meeting. He keeps scrolling, looking at the fan photos of today – including the ones of his teammates – until his thumb stops.

A picture of Miya signing an autograph caught Kiyoomi’s attention. The photo was taken from behind, angle showing Miya’s bare nape – smooth skin unblemished, clear without any mark. Kiyoomi is reminded of honey-lime and vanilla, and the buried desire to touch, taste, and bite – to stake _a claim –_ comes flooding back in full force.

Kiyoomi gulps, breath hitching on his throat, and glances back towards the oblivious omega through the gaps.

The quave inside him has taken form into a storm, and Kiyoomi’s not sure he can contain it any longer.

* * *

When Osamu recommends him a drama to watch, convincing Atsumu that it’s good, he certainly didn’t expect it to be like _this_.

The drama has sixteen episodes, and Atsumu finishes the last six episodes after practice that night even when he has to get up early in the mornings for a match. He regrets not reading the drama’s synopsis firsthand before watching it. Atsumu doesn’t have the heart to watch films with sad endings, and despite the amazing storyline, Osamu just had to give him an angsty drama.

Once again, Atsumu wipes away his tears in between sobs and blows his runny nose. Curse Osamu for messing up with his feelings. He’s been crying for too much in a short amount of time until his throat hurts.

**ctrl+v**

_Fuck you!!!!_

_Its rlly good but still!!(_ _ಥ_ _﹏_ _ಥ_ _)_

_Y u do this to me!!!_

_lol_

_[ctrl+v sent a sticker.]_

_even rin cried too_

_[You sent a photo]_

_I FINISHED WATCHING BUT THE TEARS WONT STOP_

_TAKE RESPONSIBILITY(_ _凸_ _ಥ_ _益_ _ಥ_ _)_ _凸_

_lmaoooo thats on u_

Atsumu wipes his eyes with the sleeves of his hoodie and dumps the spoiled tissues on his bed into the bin. It’s minutes past two in the morning, and everyone must be asleep. He doesn’t need to worry about anyone seeing a mess he currently is – hair tousled and unruly completed with swollen eyes and a red nose with leaking tears and snots – to fetch some water that he desperately needs.

Waiting for the bottle to fill, Atsumu is reminded again of a sorrowful scene from the drama, and the tears started again. He sniffs while closes the lid of his bottle, and when he’s about to walk back, he hears a panicked voice calling.

“Miya?”

Atsumu forgot that Sakusa is staying in the dorms today – the guy who has habits of lurking around in the late hours. This is not the state of how he wants his crush to see him in. Atsumu forces a small smile.

“Yeah?”

Hearing his own hoarse and shaky voice, Atsumu frowns. Sakusa looks worried, and he offers Atsumu a tissue. He takes it and blows his nose, a little giddy for Sakusa’s concern over him.

“Are you okay? What happened?”

“You’ve been crying for awhile,” he points out. There is no humour in his face. Sakusa looks like he’s ready to pounce on somebody. “Your eyes are really swollen. I don’t think it’s _nothing,_ Miya.”

Atsumu chuckles nervously in an attempt to lighten the situation up. “It really is nothing. I just finished watching a sad drama. I can give ya the title if yer in the mood to cry.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

Sakusa narrows his eyes, staring at Atsumu dubiously, and finally, he lets out a sigh. Now, he looks exasperated.

_Cute._

“I should’ve known it’s stupid to worry for your sorry ass.”

“Mean, Omi-kun! What if I’m really in trouble?”

Sakusa clicks his tongue. “Well, you’re not. Now go back and sleep.”

“I could say the same thing to ya,” Atsumu huffs, “Stop staying up so late, Omi-kun. Yer body needs rest.”

“I was about to go to sleep anyways,” Sakusa says, and turns his heel away. “I’m leaving first.”

“G’night, Omi-kun.”

Sakusa hums in reply, and Atsumu returns to his room. He takes large gulps of the water and absentmindedly types a message to Osamu, who is still up for whatever reason.

_I was taking a drink_

_And_

_Omi kun was there_

_Hes like_

_Worried about me cuz im still crying_

_Isnt that cute www (*_ _ﾉ_ _ω_ _ﾉ_ _)_

Without waiting for a reply, he slips off into a deep slumber, only moments before a notification appears.

**LINE**

**_ctrl+v:_ ** _is that so_

 **_ctrl+v:_ ** _interesting_

* * *

Sakusa is incredibly… distracting.

Atsumu is in the middle of his drink break, watching Sakusa who's practising his jump serves from the sidelines. The strong muscles of his thigh and calf contract as he jumps, back arching into a curve with muscles stamping through the tight jersey, providing no room for imagination. His compelling bicep and tricep drive the flex of his hands for a powerful spike, and gracefully, he falls back to the ground, step and gait steady as ever. When Meian returns the serve from the other side of the net, Sakusa smoothly scoots over to the left, thick thighs flexing and his long, strong arms extending to receive, keeping the ball in play.

It's easy to imagine those arms, pinning Atsumu down in bed - or heck, on a wall sounds arousing too - trapping him like some kind of prey ready to be taken by a predator, and all Atsumu can and _want_ is to succumb and submit.

And boy, does his inner omega thrive in thoughts like these.

"Woah, Tsum-tsum, are you okay? You're red."

"Ye-yeah! I'm okay! I just feel a little hot in here," Atsumu stammers, anxiously fanning his face with his hand. He thanks the holy person who invented scent blockers, or he's going to die out of embarrassment to be caught being horny during practice. "I'm goin' to wash my face for a bit."

He goes outside towards the washbasin and splashes his face with the cold tap water. Atsumu leans on the basin and hangs his head, droplets of water dripping from his chin.

This is not good. He has it _bad._

Worse, Atsumu has no romantic experience with an alpha. He doesn't know how to deal with them. The worst news, said alpha is Sakusa, a person who's probably not interested in omegas or relationships in general. Or even if he does happen to be interested, Atsumu is sure Sakusa's not into a loud and brash omega like him. It's more likely for Sakusa to prefer someone reserved – like Keiji or Osamu – who he gets along well with. Atsumu, being the source of Sakusa's daily annoyance, is out of the question.

On the other hand, there are times when Sakusa is nicer to him and treats Atsumu differently than his other teammates – in a good way. He's been sticking into Atsumu more too lately, right?

Atsumu runs his hand over his hair in frustration. Alphas are just so _confusing_ \- he doesn't quite comprehend the mixed signals Sakusa is sending off. Atsumu doesn't really know what to expect, and his thoughts keep running around in circles without giving him a proper resolution.

He stays late after practice to clear his mind, and unfortunately for him, Sakusa does too. And so, Atsumu finishes his shower as quickly as he could, sneaking around the locker rooms to avoid interacting with Sakusa and leaves the gym without waiting for him like Atsumu usually does. He runs back to the dorms, locks himself in his room, and throws his stuff into a random corner.

Atsumu needs help.

It's past closing time, and Atsumu is sure that Osamu is currently at home, slouching in the living room while eating on some of their mother's dinner leftovers. Atsumu dials his twin's contact, and persistently repeats the call when Osamu doesn't pick up.

He finally picks up on the third call.

"'Samu."

_"What, 'Tsumu? I'm busy."_

That's what Osamu always says whenever he picks up his phone call. "As if. Yer probably just busy eatin', ya fat ass."

Atsumu is proven correct by the munching sounds and tableware clattering in the background.

_"Eatin' is an activity. I can be busy doing an activity. Yer point?"_

"Yeah, whatever," Atsumu replies, rolling his eyes. "There's somethin' I need to ask ya."

_"What?"_

"I was wonderin'... What is it like… uh, y'know, having an alpha boyfriend?"

 _"Ooooh,"_ Osamu gushes, the interest in his tone impossible to miss, _"Well, well, well. Are ya finally goin' ta tell me about Sakusa-san?"_

Atsumu chokes on his own spit, and Osamu laughs. Has his twin been learning to be a psychic in such a short time?

"What- How- _What the fuck,_ 'Samu?"

_"I'm right, then."_

"I haven't even said anythin'!"

 _"Ya don't hafta. Do ya think I didn't notice anythin'?_ 'Samu, Omi-kun smells really nice. _As long as I live, I've never heard ya compliment an alpha's scent. Or when I come to Osaka to open a branch. I see ya voluntarily givin' him a piece of onigiri that I made for ya and then yer sharin' wet wipes. Should I also mention that one time when-"_

"Alright, alright," Atsumu groans. There is no escaping Osamu from this one. "Ya win."

_"Whiiiiiipped."_

"Fuck you."

_"Since when? How?"_

"I... don't know?" Atsumu goes quiet, recalling his memory. "I think it started that night when I found out Shouyou-kun is dating Tobio-kun. After ya fell asleep, I went out to sulk. Omi-kun popped up, we talked, and it cheered me up. The talkin' sorta becomes natural, I think? Sometimes it's just some small talk, other times… it gets personal. And hey, ya haven't answered my question yet!"

_"Does he know? About yer feelings?"_

Osamu is annoyingly adamant to not give him answers before Atsumu spills everything.

"No. At least, I think so. I never said anything 'bout it."

_"Why?"_

"Because- c'mon 'Samu, y'know who we're talkin' about. He probably thinks I'm just a… somewhat tolerable company. Or whatever. Do I even have the chance?"

 _"Yer stupid,"_ Osamu deadpans. _"Fuckin' dumb."_

Atsumu clicks his tongue in annoyance. All Osamu does is mocking him without providing any explanations. "Seriously? Can't ya be any more helpful than this?"

_"Answer me then, 'Tsumu. Does Sakusa-san pour water for other people? Does he give out wipes? Does he willingly accept food from anyone?"_

"It's a small favour, 'Samu. Not even Omi-kun is that stingy. And the food thing- that onigiri is _new_ and _untouched,_ 'Samu."

_"Then explain why he lends out his sweater for yer heat? This is Sakusa-san we're talking about. He doesn't let people borrow his things, 'Tsumu."_

"He's… probably trying to help..." Atsumu's voice gets softer in every word, and he's not sure about it too himself.

_"I'm saying that he's courting you, idiot."_

Atsumu chokes again, but Osamu is not laughing this time. Sakusa? Courting him? Atsumu? "Wh- _what_?!"

Osamu sighs loudly on the line.

 _"' Tsumu. Remember when I told 'cha I'm not sure if I should confess to Rin back in high school? When yer still datin' Arai-senpai?"_ The specific memory emerges and Atsumu nods, even when Osamu can't see him. _"Ya said that to have somethin', you gotta risk somethin'. If yer too scared to take the risk, this chance may never come back. I think ya should take yer own advice. There's a risk that he would reject ya, but there's also a chance that he might like ya too. As small as the chances are, it's still possible."_

They were still second years when Atsumu discovered Osamu's feelings towards Rintarou. Atsumu confronted him one night when they were lying on their respective beds, and Osamu, still in denial, plummeted Atsumu into silence. A few weeks passed for Osamu to reach the stage of acceptance and asked Atsumu for a way he could deal with all of this. Atsumu remembered the same feeling of cowardice when he had decided to confess to Arai. She accepted him, and Atsumu thought that it could end well for his twin too. Osamu finally confessed, got his feelings reciprocated, dated Rintarou, and mated with him. They are so disgustingly in love that Atsumu's kind of jealous of their relationship.

"….Right." Atsumu murmurs, mulling over his thoughts. "When ya started datin' Sunarin, how d'ya think that he's… _the one?_ You don't have any ex."

_"Uh… ya just do, I guess. I don't know. I can't describe it, but things just feel... different when yer with them. Fulfilled, I guess? Both physically and mentally. Somethin' than no one else can give to ya."_

Osamu's answer sends Atsumu's mind fleeting – Sakusa's broad shoulders and arms that can engulf his figure, cardamom and cedarwood that can magically calm his nerves, and Sakusa's robust presence that makes Atsumu feel safe and protected like no other alphas, betas, or omegas – and _yes,_ Atsumu wants to have Sakusa as a part of his life and to have Sakusa as _his_ alone.

It leads Atsumu to a final question: Would ruining their current relationship be worth the risk of having something more?

It may just _be._

_"Hey, are ya still there, 'Tsumu?"_

Atsumu snaps back into reality by the sound of Osamu's voice. "Oh- yeah, yeah. I'm just… thinkin'."

" _You, thinkin'? Ya still have that brain in ya, 'Tsumu?"_

"I wouldn't be askin' if I don't, ya ass."

_"Well. Don't be all bark and no bite. Do somethin' about it, idiot."_

Osamu is being smug, and Atsumu takes it as a challenge. "Ha! Ya think I would cower down like ya did? I ain't gonna be ya and Rintarou's third wheeler anymore."

_"We'll see. Don't 'cha cryin' on me, 'Tsumu."_

"Like hell I will."

_"See ya then."_

"Back at 'cha."

The line goes off as Atsumu disconnects the call. He sighs, lying feebly on the mattress.

Tonight, it'll only be Atsumu in the company of the dark, along with his swirling thoughts and tempestuous feelings for an alpha named Sakusa Kiyoomi.

* * *

Three days have passed since Miya started avoiding him.

It's unusual for Miya to ditch him after practice without saying anything per se, and he didn't bother to send Kiyoomi texts or memes the next day. Kiyoomi confirms his suspicion when Miya sticks himself to anyone other than him – avoiding him like a plague – before, during, and after practice.

At least he's professional. Any unspoken animosity he has with Kiyoomi doesn't affect their practice.

Miya dashes off the moment practice has ended. The stillness in the locker rooms and the walk back to the dorms are similar to when Miya's on a heat leave, but this is worse because Miya is _there,_ maintaining his distance with Kiyoomi on purpose.

Kiyoomi doesn't like this suffocating quiescence.

He thinks back to three days ago - did he do something wrong? Something out of normal? Or said something that crossed Miya's boundaries without Kiyoomi knowing?

But alas, _nothing._

They have an early practice tomorrow, and Kiyoomi returns to the dorms. Kiyoomi tries to wash his thoughts away under the cold shower and reads a book to divert his focus somewhere else. He ends up finishing the book, half-an-hour past midnight and turns the light off to sleep away his musings.

Kiyoomi fails to reach a peaceful state of mind with former thoughts of Miya haunting him back, and sighing, he relents. There's no use in fighting it like this.

Going downstairs, Kiyoomi starts his insomnia-management ritual. He brews a cup of green tea, diluted enough to prevent the caffeine from keeping him awake, and sits on the couch in the middle of the dark. Outside the window, a soft drizzle is raining down.

Kiyoomi doesn't know how much time he was stuck in a daze, staring at nothing in particular through the windows. When he regains his senses back, the drizzle has stopped – replaced by the wind, blowing the branches and leaves of various shades of red from the trees.

It reminds Kiyoomi about that time on the rooftop - right after the rain, wind whirling the cherry blossoms of spring - and again, it leads him back into the warm glow of Miya Atsumu's blazing omnipresence.

Absentmindedly, he climbs up the four-story stairs towards the rooftop. A gust of wind passes through the gap as Kiyoomi opens the door, straight into his face. The single, dim yellow light of the rooftop illuminates a silhouette of all-too-familiar shoulders and hourglass contour of his body - a nuisance Kiyoomi's to his mind - who is humming along to a music that Miya always plays in the nights out of town where they roomed together.

In small, feather-light steps, Kiyoomi avoids the dire puddles of the broken tiles, and in caution, he stops beside the man. Miya doesn't move nor runs away in Kiyoomi's close proximity, like he's letting Kiyoomi be there.

"Pleasant seein' ya around again, Omi-kun," he greets, tone lacking the usual playfulness. His eyes are sticking to the ground below where the trees are, not looking at Kiyoomi. "Why are ya not asleep yet?"

"I can't sleep."

"Well, yer not alone. What makes ya go up here, though?"

It's nothing but an innocent question, yet with Miya's presence right in front of Kiyoomi – basking in an invisible glow under the dim lighting, radiating warmth that Kiyoomi didn't realise he perilously needed – he feels tired, drained from the effort to keep up his distant facade of indifference. Until now, Kiyoomi has been masking his feelings and running away from it religiously, but in the end, there is nothing he could gain. All he did was bring their relationship around in circles, cowering away in fear, and all in futile.

Kiyoomi wants to drop his agony. He wants closure. And maybe, it's also the time for him to be honest with himself.

And to Miya.

"It was drizzling. The wind blows. It reminds me of the rooftop, and... you." Kiyoomi says, taking in a deep breath, and sighs. "Everything in my mind seems to come back to you, lately."

Kiyoomi is half-expecting Miya to smirk, boasting himself like a narcissist he is towards the obvious ego boost, but instead, Miya laughs.

"What the hell, Omi-kun. Don't you have any tact at all?"

His laugh sends a sharp, hollow pang to his chest—the dull ache echoes.

Is this what they call a heartbreak?

When Miya's bouts of laughter wear off, the edges of his face softens as he smiles at Kiyoomi. "I can't believe how sick and wicked coincidences can be. Here I am, pathetically awake because I also can't stop thinkin' about ya."

Time seems to freeze between them, and all Kiyoomi can feel is his quickening heartbeat. His breath hitches upon the gentle colours of his eyes, emitting copious emotions so alluring and overwhelming, the crinkles in the corner of Miya's eyes, and the quirk on his pink lips. Everything about him looks so flawless, so perfect – leading Kiyoomi into a concept: this is not the haughty person who Kiyoomi acquainted with during high school, but instead, this is someone who wears his heart on his sleeves, someone who came to learn where to put his pride, and someone who learns to place others along with himself.

This is someone who's Kiyoomi fallen in love with.

"...You changed a lot, Miya."

There are a million things that Kiyoomi wants to say - of _I like you_ s or _you're driving me crazy,_ but only of those that his tongue managed to transmit.

"…In a good or a bad way?"

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but, good."

"That's good to hear," Miya whispers, a soft smile forming on his lips. "It's hard and it takes time, but I'm glad some things work out in the end."

Anything about Miya currently is relaxed and peaceful, genuine and serene. This is a man without his sheath, bare and vulnerable to his core – and with his bangs moving gently across his face by the wind and cheeks illuminated by the yellow light – Miya looks almost _ethereal._

"Do ya want to hear a story?"

This is something that happens naturally by now, Kiyoomi figures, to be an ear for things that Miya has got to say. It can be something trivial, like a restaurant that he would like to visit. Every once in a while, he would tell a secret or two. Together, Miya shares bits and pieces of a person he truly is, and by time, Kiyoomi keeps wanting more, and he would take whatever Miya has got to offer. It's like it's _addicting._

"What about?"

"… It's not a secret that despite bein' the younger twin, 'Samu takes care of me more than I do to him. Although it's not something that I truly realised before I left Hyogo."

Miya places his elbow on the railings and rests chin on his hand. "'Samu started datin' Rintarou on our third year. At first, nothin' really changed. We often hung out together even before they were datin'. But as time goes by, they got much closer, and I feel like 'Samu is gettin' further and further away from me. It was bad enough when he decided to retire from volleyball after high school. And one day, when 'Samu comes home with Rintarou's scent all over him, I got pissed, and we got into a huge fight."

Atsumu stops. His eyes are clouded in a haze, and he takes in a breath, sighing loudly, like he's releasing a cyclone from the whirlwind of conflicting emotions inside him. "Ya know what he said? 'My life doesn't revolve around you. Ya don't even care about what I feel. I had enough of this. Nothin' could ever be enough for ya. Fuckin' grow up and suck it up, 'Tsumu.'"

His voice is calm and collected without any ripple threatening to shake his essence. Every word is pouring of vivid, intense emotions that send Kiyoomi's psyche shivering.

"It was… the worst fight we had, even after bein' twins for almost 24 years now. I didn't realise it back then, but I was _jealous._ Ever since we've presented, we always help each other out. To me, 'Samu provides comfort to my mood swings, especially durin' pre-heat. He's the only one who knows how to deal with me. He's always so patient, even though I've never done the same thing to him."

Miya rests his back against the railings. He turns up to the empty sky, looking lost, like he's not currently living in the present.

"'Samu stayed the night at Rintarou's place and it was the first time in my life that I truly felt empty. I realised that without 'Samu, I had no one. I've never felt so lonely in my life. It made me realise how fucked up I was, and I _needed_ to get a hold of my shit. One week had passed before I finally had the courage to show up in Rintarou's house and apologised to 'Samu."

Out of all the things Kiyoomi expected Miya to say, he didn't dare to think about a story so personal that interweaves the deepest part of his soul – a foreign territory of who Miya is as a person – and to be the one who is permitted to see his naked heart and soul feels _intimate,_ leaving Kiyoomi speechless.

"That's why… I'm really happy to hear that I've changed. In a good way. It means a lot coming from you, Kiyoomi."

Miya smiles a sweetest smile that Kiyoomi's ever seen in his life, looking at him with eyes so full of _love_ , and Kiyoomi feels like he's the luckiest person in the world to be given a chance to learn the soul of Miya Atsumu.

_"Do ya have a special someone, Omi-kun?"_

Kiyoomi cups Miya's face with his hand and runs a thumb across his cheek, all worries about germs have long gone, and as he closes his eyes, he moves closer until the distance between them is none. Miya's lips are cold and soft, gingerly brushing against Kiyoomi's own, and a hint of Miya's subtle honey-lime scent against his breath invades his senses. Miya pulls him closer with arms encircling his neck and Kiyoomi deepens their kiss, holding each other's breath without any signs of letting go – right now, all that matters is how the skip of his heart blooms in the garden of Kiyoomi's soul with Miya in his arms, _his_ to have for the moment.

Kiyoomi finally pulls away after what it feels like minutes, both gasping softly for air. He drunks in the beautiful sight of Miya's half-lidded eyes and wet, red lips for granted, and Kiyoomi wants to have him all to himself.

"I like you," he whispers, in between feathery kisses on Miya's lips, "I love you _._ "

"I love you too, Omi-kun."

Miya giggles, and buries his face into Kiyoomi's neck, holding his back tight, and Kiyoomi follows, laughing softly to himself, as he embraces Miya in his arms, together under the cloudy skies and drizzling rain.

Kiyoomi finally finds the final missing piece that completes the puzzles of his soul.

* * *

There weren't any words of ' _go out with me_ ', and nothing much has been spoken ever since, except for the light kisses and touches in the locker rooms when no one was looking, or a more heated make-out session on the rooftop when Sakusa is in the dorms.

When next Thursday comes along, Sakusa stays behind for extra practice. When Atsumu is done, intending to leave, a gentle, calloused hand encircles Atsumu's wrist. He doesn't pull away.

"Are you going somewhere tonight?"

"Only in the dorms. Why?"

"Go home with me tonight."

Atsumu chuckles. Is Sakusa afraid of Atsumu running away from him like last week? "I know, Omi-kun, I'll wait for ya."

Sakusa shakes his head. "No- I mean, let's go back to my apartment tonight."

That's new. Sakusa had never invited anyone to his apartment before, not since he had moved out from the dorms. His invitation catches Atsumu off-guard.

"…Okay, should I bring my stuff or anythin'?"

"Up to you. We have a meeting tomorrow, anyway."

 _Oh._ Sakusa is implying that he's having Atsumu staying for the night. In his apartment. Just both of them.

In the back of his mind, Atsumu can hear the echoes of his mother's favourite lecture of alphas ever since both he and Osamu first presented: _Don't ever go to a place where yer all alone with an alpha, ya don't know if they'll give ya drugs or even rape ya. Don't go to a place where ya can't call for help._ Through her, he knows better to not spend a night alone with an alpha in their home, but this is _Sakusa,_ and a traitorous wave of excitement pools in Atsumu's stomach.

"I'll pack some of my stuff first, then."

Sakusa smirks slightly, looking satisfied with his answer, and lets his wrist go. "You go back first. I'll wait for you by the fence."

"Should I take a shower?"

"Just have one at my place later. I'll lend you some towels."

"Okay."

Atsumu enters the locker rooms, double-checking if he's all alone, and crouches down by the door, heat rising up to his cheeks. What did he agree on?

This is Sakusa he's talking about, however, the awkward alpha who doesn't like to be touched, much less touching other people. And they kind of have something going on between them. So, it should be fine, shouldn't it?

Atsumu shakes his head, not wanting to overthink it, and changes his jersey into a t-shirt and jeans. He slips on the team's jacket to prevent the chill, autumn air and walks back to the dorms. Atsumu stuffs in some clothes for his overnight stay into his sports duffel bag. When he exits, Sakusa is already standing in front.

"Sorry for makin' ya wait, Omi-kun. Did' cha wait for long?"

"Not really. I just got here," Sakusa answers. "You got everything you need?"

"Well, just some clothes, right?"

"Mhm."

Neither of them says anything as they walk. Sakusa is radiating warm with Atsumu's close proximity, and suddenly, a hand reaches for Atsumu's own. He beams, intertwining their fingers together, and a hue of pink rouses into Sakusa's cheek as he looks away.

"I thought ya don't do romantic things like this, Omi-kun."

"Didn't say I don't."

They walk hand-in-hand towards the station, riding the metro to Sakusa's apartment. His apartment complex is near the station, which is a newly built, ten-story building.

" _Wow._ " Atsumu checks out the modern, minimalist lobby. The walls are freshly painted of marble white colour, the tiles are sparkling porcelains, and tiers of metal postbox of each unit line up neatly in the perimeters. "This place must be expensive."

Sakusa shrugs. "Not really. There's a discount for early birds."

"You _bought_ an apartment?" Atsumu shrieks. Even though professional athletes make a decent amount of money, buying an apartment this early in their career is a bit too much for their savings. That's why most of the team members stay in the dorms. It's also much cheaper than renting an apartment.

"It's my mother's. She works outside the town a lot, and stays here whenever she's in Osaka."

Sakusa takes him to the fifth floor where he takes a turn to the right, passing two other doors until he stops in front of his door. He presses the code in, unlocking the door, and the lights turned on to reveal a spacious, two-bedroom unit decorated in a sleek, black-and-white tone.

"Nice," Atsumu whistles, removing his shoes in the genkan. "Ya never told me ya live in such a fancy apartment, Omi. No wonder ya don't want to stay in the dorms."

"That's because I don't want any of you barging into my place."

Atsumu knows Sakusa is wary of his teammates throwing a party or something, dirtying his space, and thus, he is forced to clean and disinfect the whole area.

"I'm taking a shower inside. You can have one here. I'll take some towels out for you."

The guest bathroom is on the left, accessible the moment Atsumu steps inside. Talk about being a clean-freak and having a bathroom right in front.

Atsumu takes a shower, and when he's done, he walks around the apartment as he waits for Sakusa. There are two bedrooms: one master bedroom where Sakusa sleeps in and one guest bedroom, a kitchen equipped with expensive equipment – brands familiar to Atsumu through his knowledge from surfing cooking tools with Osamu – and a small white dining table with four black seats. The living room has one long couch and a pair of leather recliners, complete with a coffee table made of glass in the middle, and finally, a glass door adjacent to the space that leads to the balcony.

Beside the balcony doors, there is a bookshelf with an extensive collection of books ranging from non-fiction like finance, marketing, business and management – to fictions like mystery-crime and light novels. To the right, lies several photo frames with photos. The frames catch Atsumu's eye, and he looks upon an old, faded picture of a young woman and a man in front of an office.

"That photo is taken when they've just gotten married," Sakusa mentions, standing beside Atsumu with a towel on his head. "It's more than… thirty years already."

"Ya look like a carbon copy of yer dad." The man in the picture has black, curly hair, and the everlasting poker face is just like Sakusa's. "But yer eyes and nose are from yer mum's."

"Hm. People tell me that a lot."

There's a photo of Kiyoomi's mother on a cruise, a photo of her with a girl, another picture of her with someone Atsumu doesn't recognize, and finally, a family photo. There's a boy, a girl, and a baby in the father's arms.

Atsumu brings the frame closer. "Omi-kun, ya look so cute as a baby!"

"Aren't all babies are?"

Compared to the photos Atsumu has seen on Sakusa Kyoko's Instagram, Sakusa's brother and sister don't change much. They have been blessed with good looks ever since they were kids.

"Do ya have any more photos here?" Atsumu asks, snooping around for some family albums, while Sakusa brews some tea.

He ignores Atsumu's question, and he asks back, "Would you like tea or beer?"

"Tea is good."

Sakusa places two mugs of green tea on the coffee table, and he sits on the couch. Atsumu follows, taking a sip of the tea. It tastes heavenly – Atsumu doesn't know if it's the tea, or it's because a sexy alpha made it for him.

"Whoa, this is some good stuff."

Sakusa smirks, smugly. "Of course it is. It's _gyokuro._ "

"Damn, Omi. That shit costs a fortune. I might as well finish off every single high-end dining stuff of yours whenever ya invite me here."

"Consider yourself honoured."

He chuckles lightly and turns on the TV, passing the remote to Atsumu.

"Pick whatever you want to watch."

Atsumu chooses an action movie that he missed during its premiere in the cinema and turns off the lights. "Sets up the mood."

Sakusa then outstretches his hand, and by the nudge of his head to Atsumu's way, Atsumu thinks that Sakusa is telling him to move closer.

Oh. This is _new._

A bit shyly, Atsumu scoots closer to Sakusa, and he wraps his arm around Atsumu's shoulders, pulling him until their bodies are touching. Sakusa rests his cheek into Atsumu's head, and somehow, this gesture feels more romantic and intimate than their secret make-out sessions. Atsumu sticking into Sakusa's personal space tells a lot about the affection, and it sends jitters into Atsumu's stomach. He snuggles into Sakusa's warmth, and an unruly smile forces its way into Atsumu's lips.

When the movie ends, they prepare for bed, and Atsumu drags his bag into the spare bedroom.

"Where are you going?"

Sakusa is leaning on his bedroom's door frame, a questioning look plastered on his face.

"Sleep?" Atsumu answers, like it's the most obvious thing, and points a thumb towards the room. "This is the guest room, right?"

He frowns. "You're not sleeping there. You're sleeping with me."

Atsumu's brain short-circuits.

His body feels hot suddenly – he's not in birth control, and he doesn't have any condoms. Does Sakusa have some? Atsumu hasn't mentally prepared himself for this. He never had sex with an alpha and Atsumu is blank, not knowing what to expect. Will Kiyoomi become feral, like what Atsumu hears about alphas during intercourse?

"Wa- wait, _what_?"

"Come here."

Hesitantly, Atsumu walks over, and Sakusa leads him into his room. His mother's lecture comes ringing inside his head again.

_Mum, I'm sorry I have failed you._

Sakusa climbs up into the bed and waits for Atsumu. He is still standing in the door frame, biting his lip in doubt as he gathers his thoughts.

"Omi-kun, I'm not ready to have sex with you."

Sakusa's eyes widen for a second, and then he _snickers._ "I'm not going to ask for sex. Just… you know, sleeping together. Literally."

"Oh," Atsumu mumbles, feeling stupid. He scratches the back of his head sheepishly and climbs to the bed. Sakusa turns off the bedside lamp, and Atsumu awkwardly hides his face under the covers, inhaling the divine cardamom and cedarwood, which calms his senses a bit. "I'm nervous. This is my first time with an alpha."

Sakusa takes Atsumu's hand, pressing it close to his ribcage, and Atsumu can feel Sakusa's rapidly beating heart. "Me too."

"But I like this," Atsumu chuckles and wraps himself into Sakusa's arms. "I guess we have to learn to get used to it now."

Atsumu hears Sakusa sighs in content, and whispers, "Yeah."

* * *

_“Omi-kun.”_

_“Hm?”_

_“So, we’re like dating now, right?”_

_“If we aren’t, you wouldn’t be here.”_

_“Then… call me by my name.”_

_“Okay… Atsumu.”_

* * *

Atsumu has been hanging out at Kiyoomi’s apartment lately. He returns to the dorms at night, sometimes not, with his occasional spontaneous sleepovers. They spend the evening in each other’s arms, getting used to every touch, and it’s not long before Atsumu starts wanting more. There is something that Atsumu wants to suggest, but he needs assurance beforehand. One day, when they’re both in bed, Atsumu nudges Kiyoomi, who’s reading a book, and asks.

“Omi-kun, what do ya think about my scent?”

“You smell nice, not too sweet. I like it.”

Kiyoomi doesn’t spare him a glance as he answers Atsumu’s question without missing a beat, almost catching Atsumu by shock. His shoulders relax when his anxiety is relieved.

“Have ya ever thought of scenting me?”

Kiyoomi’s fingers pause in the middle of flipping a page. Pink hue finds its way into Kiyoomi’s cheek, a colour so soft that it’s almost unnoticeable if not for the bright lamp.

”...Can’t say I haven’t,” Kiyoomi whispers.

Atsumu hums, pushing himself up so that he’s on eye level with Kiyoomi. He nuzzles softly on Kiyoomi’s neck, inhaling the alpha’s intoxicating scent, deep and potent without the effects of his scent-blocker pill. Atsumu sighs in content. “What’s holdin’ ya back?”

“Don’t you usually use the pill?”

Atsumu never skips a day on his pill except for when he’s in heat, and even two months into their relationship, Atsumu never puts the blockers off. But today, he intentionally skipped his daily dose, and even if it’s almost unnoticeable, some of his scent must be seeping through. A certain someone could get a whiff of it if he buries his nose in close enough to the skin above his scent glands.

“Skippin’ my dose won’t be a problem if ya wanna do it. In fact, I’m not usin’ one today.”

“So you’ve been planning for this.” Kiyoomi puts his book aside and runs a finger on Atsumu’s nape. He nuzzles into Atsumu’s crook of the neck, arms snaking around his waist as he pulls Atsumu closer, and gently nips on the skin. “You smell really good.”

Kiyoomi is latching on Atsumu’s scent glands, marking him with his own cardamom and cedarwood, and Atsumu ecstatically welcomes it, feeling all fuzzy and warm on the insides.

“I’m skipping on tomorrow’s dose too, then.”

Atsumu can feel the twitch of Kiyoomi’s lips on his skin as his scent trills in gratification.

* * *

One scenting session leads to another, and soon enough, it evolves into sex, which gradually becomes their regular thing. Much to Atsumu's surprise, he's not the only horny one in their relationship. Kiyoomi practically drags him to his place after practice one day, and right after a shower, he fucks Atsumu on his bed, and leaves marks all over Atsumu's body, mindful enough to not leave it out in the open skin. Atsumu lies in bed happily with Kiyoomi, basking in the afterglow, lazing around with the TV on until it's time for another shower and dinner. Unfortunately, as much as Atsumu wants to stay, he promised Shouyou that he would help him handle some documents tonight, and he has to return to the dorms.

Atsumu prepares to leave, but before he slips on his shoes, Kiyoomi calls for him.

"Wait, Atsumu. Come here."

Atsumu sits on a space between Kiyoomi's legs and rests his back on Kiyoomi's chest. Kiyoomi wraps an arm on Atsumu's waist, his other hand pulling the hem of Atsumu's t-shirt to the side, revealing more skin, and buries his face in the space between Atsumu's neck and shoulders where his scent glands are located.

"Omi-kun," Atsumu warns, not pushing him away. "Yer gonna leave your scent all over me if you keep that up."

Kiyoomi responds by nuzzling deeper into Atsumu's neck. "That's the plan."

"They'll know."

"Then let them know."

Atsumu originally thought that Kiyoomi would want to lay low and keep their relationship a secret from the others, so frankly, he didn't expect that Kiyoomi is fine with announcing it out, directly or indirectly.

Somehow, it makes Atsumu all fluttery. He bites his lip, holding back a grin that threatens to form on his face. He bares his neck to the side, allowing Kiyoomi more access to his scent glands.

They stay for another while before Kiyoomi releases Atsumu from his arm. "See you tomorrow."

Atsumu kisses him on the lips and wears his jacket as he leaves to the door. "See ya! I'm leavin' first."

When Atsumu enters the dorms, his teammates are in the common room playing cards. Tomas meets his eye and calls.

"Atsumu! Come here and play!"

"Sure."

Atsumu sits on the space between Bokuto and Meian who have scooted over. The current round is still ongoing, and while Atsumu waits, he looks for the missing member in the circle.

"Where's Shouyou-kun?"

"Went out for dinner with Kageyama. And… I'm done!" Meian throws his last card in, earning a squeak from Bokuto, the only one left playing with Barnes. Meian then turns to look Atsumu in the eye. "Atsumu… I don't mean to pry, but you smell… different."

"Oh yeah! You smell like Omi!"

Bokuto's exclamation steals every attention into Atsumu's way, five pairs of eyes gleaming in curiosity.

"I just came back from his apartment?"

The whole group' oohh's and Barnes mentions, "Sakusa? Inviting people to his apartment?"

"So that's where you've been going to after practice these days, Tsum-tsum!"

Inunaki snorts, wiggling his eyebrows, and chimes, "Just visiting won't make the scent stick on you like that, Atsumu. So, what's going on between you two?"

Well, it's not like they're hiding their relationship and Kiyoomi said that he's fine if the others know, so…

"We're... dating?"

The bomb drops and the whole room explodes into gasps and cheers. Bokuto and Meian pat him on the back, congratulating him.

"Your roommate arrangement works much better than you originally thought, Meian."

Atsumu gapes upon Barnes's statement and pouts. "I know I've been purposely being roomed in with Omi-kun all this time, but I didn't know that's because of you, Meian-san!"

"You both look like you hate each other. Placing you both in a room together sounded like an effective way to force you two to sort it out. Who knows that you and Sakusa ended up dating instead."

When Kiyoomi enters the gym the day after - oblivious to all the ruckus - he has everyone staring at him in amusement. Atsumu explains what happened yesterday and when they exit the gym, Kiyoomi wraps his hand around Atsumu's - right in front of their teammates - and takes Atsumu back into his apartment.

By the morning, the news about them has spread like wildfire, his phone is flooding with notifications, mostly from his Inarizaki group. From the chatrooms, a seemingly innocent message preview from Osamu urges Atsumu to reply.

**ctrl+v**

_does mum know already_

_I dont think so_

_I havent told her a thing_

_You know her_

_u should tell her_

_i think shes chill with it as long as ur not mated yet_

_wait_

To be honest, Atsumu thinks his mother is being a hassle. He's old enough to be with whoever he pleases without getting consent from her like he's still a fifteen-year-old. He's been thinking about forming a temporary bond with Kiyoomi for his next heat, anyways.

_ur not right?_

_or r u_

_No_

_Im using heat suppressants bcs its game season_

_Shes fine with u and rintarou tho??_

_she knows rin well already when were official_

_dont make her angry_

_i dont care abt u but i feel bad for sakusa-san_

Osamu is right. His mother will _kill_ him if she finds out that her son is mated with someone she hasn't met before. In one of her long lectures of 'taking care of yourself when you're living alone', she told him to introduce her to whoever he's dating to see if they are a decent person or not.

This reminder sends his morning into shambles. Atsumu fumbles his fingers above the keyboard, arranging words inside his head for a message he will send to his mother. Should he call instead?

Kiyoomi must have sensed his perplexion emitting from his scent as he releases some of his calming pheromones.

"What's wrong?"

"'Samu is bein' a bother," Atsumu replies, locking his phone away. "There's somethin' I wanna ask, though."

"What is it?"

"'M skippin' my heat this month cuz we have games, but do ya want to… join me for my next heat?"

Kiyoomi's pupils dilate upon the sudden invitation, body moving a distance back.

"Are you... proposing me?"

Flustered, Atsumu almost chokes in his own spit. He didn't mean it that way and didn't think that Kiyoomi would take it _that_ way. "Ye- yeah, technically speaking. I guess."

A light amusement sparkles on Kiyoomi's features, which only make Atsumu even more embarrassed.

"When?"

"Around March, but I'm plannin' to go back home. So, around June?"

"Okay. If I'm on schedule, I don't have my rut in both months."

"It's fine if you are though," Atsumu mumbles, glancing sideways, rubbing his nape absentmindedly. Kiyoomi would only leave a temporary bond mark if he marks Atsumu outside his rut, but still… "It's not like'm gonna do it with anyone else..."

Wrapped up in his embarrassment, Atsumu covers his face in the blankets. He doesn't realise how Kiyoomi mumbles ' _fuck_ ’ and stirs on the bed until a shadow hovers on top of him. Kiyoomi pulls Atsumu's legs up, settling in between his thighs, rutting his already-hard cock into Atsumu's hole behind his boxers. With a squeak, Atsumu looks up to see an annoyed pout and red cheeks on Kiyoomi's face.

"You just know how to rile someone up in early mornings, don't you, Atsumu?"

Kiyoomi's domineering figure above Atsumu makes him equally excited, dick twitching up in response, and gone is Atsumu's previous embarrassment as he shamelessly grinds back into Kiyoomi's dick.

A message for his mother can wait for later.

"What can I say? I'm only yours to have, _alpha_."

"I'll make sure you keep your word, _omega._ "

* * *

MSBY Black Jackals faced off EJP Raijin in the finals of Japan’s V.League this year. Kiyoomi, along with Atsumu and Bokuto, has been looking forward to this match – a chance to face off their former high-school teammates.

They played a harsh, five-set match, and finally, EJP won with only a slight difference in points. Nevertheless, it was one of the most enjoyable games Kiyoomi has in a while.

Minus Motoya’s incessant bragging too, honestly.

“Finally!” he exclaims, at the moment Kiyoomi exits the locker rooms after changing. “I told you I’ll win this time, Kiyoomi! Pay up!”

Kiyoomi sighs. Motoya is really happy about it, and Kiyoomi feels happy for him too. “Fine. What do you have in plan?”

“Well, I overhear our captains talking about going drinking tonight...”

“You mean eavesdropping.”

“Yeah, well- no?” Motoya chuckles, smiling innocently. “Anyways! You have to buy me drinks tonight!”

“Don’t get drunk.” Kiyoomi doesn’t want to deal with Motoya when he’s drunk. He pukes in addition to his non-stop crying.

“I won’t, I won’t,” he grins, waving his hands. “Oh, and here! I met Kyoko-nee and Kyoutarou-nii on my way here and they said to give this to you.”

Motoya takes a bag out of his duffel bag and passes it to Kiyoomi. Inside, sits two boxes of freshly cut fruits, two bottles of energy drink, and another two small boxes containing _umeboshi_ and fatty tuna each _._ Kiyoomi pulls the sticky note from the box and reads the message:

_Good game, Kiyoomi! Don’t forget to rest and restore your energy :)_

_Give the ootoro, fruits and drink to Atsumu-kun, okay? Tell us about him later._

Kiyoomi never told his siblings anything about Atsumu yet. They aren’t supposed to know anything, except...

“Motoya.”

At the corner of his eye, he sees Motoya sneaking away, back startling when Kiyoomi calls his name. He turns around with a sickly-sweet smile on his face.

“What else did you tell them?” Kiyoomi asks, swinging the note in his hand.

“Eh, it’s not my fault!”

“Liar. I’ve said nothing.”

“Look, it’s because you don’t tell them anything! I’ve told you after Atsumu-kun posted that Instagram story, Kyoko-nee spams on my chat and calls every _single_ day!”

Kiyoomi feels a little guilty for Motoya. His sister can be incredibly nosy and annoying, and Motoya is an easy target for her. Kiyoomi swears his siblings know more about his personal life by prying Motoya to give them information.

It’s because they can’t stop minding their own business that Kiyoomi doesn’t want to tell them anything. But from time to time, like today, their unbearable nosiness does have their own convenience. Atsumu would definitely love to have some of his favourite food right now.

“Fine.” Kiyoomi relents. “But next time, hit the block button. I’ll take the blame.”

Motoya laughs. From afar, Washio calls for Motoya.

“Oh, that’s my cue. See you tonight, Kiyoomi.”

He waves goodbye, joining the rest of the team. Kiyoomi waves back.

“Who are ya talkin’ to, Omi-kun?”

Atsumu appears beside him, slurping a box of milk, tilting his head to the side.

“Motoya. Apparently, our coaches are arranging for drinks tonight.”

“Oh yeah, I overheard coach sayin’ something about that. And- are they still here? The Raijins, I mean.”

“No, they left already.”

“Huh. Oh well, I’ll get to Rintarou later.”

“Are you hungry?”

Atsumu’s eyes move to the bag Kiyoomi is holding. “Ya got food, Omi-kun?”

“Hm. Well, some.”

Kiyoomi takes out the box of fruit, the bottle of drink, and lastly, the tuna.

“Oooh,” Atsumu gushes, eyes all sparkly, and suddenly, Atsumu kisses him on the cheek. “How romantic. Thanks, Omi-kun~”

He looks away, fingers brushing his mask-covered nose. “It’s from my sister and brother, actually.”

“They know?”

“In one way or another, yeah.”

“I’ll say my thanks to them through the DMs, then.” Atsumu grins. “Now, let’s eat!”

Kiyoomi lets Atsumu drag him through his arm, and when he’s sure Atsumu is not looking, he smiles.

* * *

True to Kiyoomi’s expectation, it’s _loud._ The Jackals are loud enough, but combined with EJP, the noise becomes doubled. Some familiar faces are also invited to this after-game celebration – Akaashi, who lives and works in Tokyo; Osamu, who is in Tokyo for business; Meian’s wife; and Barnes’s girlfriend. The _zashiki-_ style seating contributes to a closer setting between people and contributes to the louder noise. Thank god they reserved a private, semi-sound-proof room. Kiyoomi is sure that if they didn’t, the _izakaya_ workers would kick them out already.

They are halfway through their drinks when Bokuto suggests playing the King’s Game. It’s a game where whoever becomes the king, gets to give any kind of orders to the subjects. Knowing his team, there’s a lot of physical touches and alcohol involved in the orders. Kiyoomi isn’t sure where the can and the sticks pop out, but he will certainly not participate in that devious game. Not even Atsumu can convince him otherwise.

“Omi-kun, join us?”

“No.”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why? Everyone is participating!”

Kiyoomi glares, making his point clear. “And who’s going to deal with you if everyone gets high and drunk?”

“What a party pooper,” Atsumu grumbles, snatching Kiyoomi’s beer, and joins back to the group. He is quite surprised to see Akaashi also participating in the game.

Kiyoomi is now alone. In the company of another glass of beer, he watches the ruckus on the table across him. Motoya is shouting happily as he gets to become king, and Kiyoomi knows it will be interesting. He orders number 7 – Washio, to sit on number 11 – Inunaki’s lap until the game is over. The crowd cheers, pushing both of them into each other.

It’s funny and entertaining to watch as an outsider, but it’s painful to become the object of ridicule. Kiyoomi doesn’t need to experience it for the third time.

“Is it okay if I join ya, Sakusa-san?”

Osamu’s voice breaks Kiyoomi’s reverie. He’s standing obliquely on the left, carrying a glass of his own beer, waiting for a confirmation.

“Sure.”

Osamu takes a seat beside him. Kiyoomi is well acquainted with him through the team outings that Osamu participates in, forming a little drinking group along with Akaashi. “You’re not joining, Osamu-san?”

“Nah. I refuse to play this game. Besides, I don’t want to miss any embarrassin’ orders ‘Tsumu gotta do. Or Rin’s, if I’m lucky. You?”

“Not a fan of this game.”

“Ah, so ya experienced the tragic fall. What happened?”

“The order was to exchange clothes, including _underwear._ The _captain_ and I were the unlucky victims. I refused to do it.”

Atsumu and Bokuto forced Kiyoomi to play at his welcoming party to The Jackals. Atsumu is the one who gave that order. Kiyoomi refused, holding on to his clothes in horror, and warded anyone who dared to get close with all his might. They finally relented and moved on with the game. It was traumatic enough for Kiyoomi to never join any of his teammate’s King’s Game anymore.

“Couldn’t blame ya for that. Was it ‘Tsumu’s orders?”

“Mhm.”

Osamu snorts into his beer. “I knew it. He’s a vile, vulgar piece of shit.”

“Humour me. What about you?”

“Durin’ high school, Rin - that bastard - knew m’number and ‘Tsumu’s. He ordered us to hold hands and kiss each other on the cheek and _records_ it on his phone. Never played again since.”

Kiyoomi feels sympathetic, though a laugh peeks out from his mouth. Osamu huffs, takes a gulp of his drink, and calls for the waiter to file another order.

“Do ya want to order anythin’?”

“No thanks. I have enough for tonight.”

Osamu settles for a glass of beer in addition to four portions of _karaage_ and tempura. While waiting, they chat about some home-cook recipes, and when number 7 – Atsumu – is ordered to eat a teaspoon of _wasabi_ , Osamu whips up his phone to record the whole ordeal. Atsumu pathetically wheezes-and-heaves after he swallows it. Osamu looks satisfied when he ends the recording.

That _wasabi_ is going to mess up Atsumu’s stomach. Kiyoomi is not letting Atsumu stay at his place tonight.

“I must say Sakusa-san, with ‘Tsumu bein’... well, y’know, bein’ ‘Tsumu – yer the last person I expected to end up with him.”

Kiyoomi shrugs. “Honestly, when I first joined the team, I didn’t want to deal with him more than necessary. He screams trouble.”

“He is. And yet, here we are. What did m’brother do to make ya fall for him, anyway?”

Osamu cocks his head, lightening up in curiosity. It’s something that Kiyoomi has been thinking about too lately. “Somehow, he works his way up into my life and without realising it, he becomes a part of it already.”

“Talk about bein’ annoying,” Osamu chuckles, looking at Atsumu’s way. There’s something soft in the way he looks at his twin, fond with emotions swimming in his eyes – different, yet familiar to Kiyoomi at the same time – and Kiyoomi thinks they are both truly brothers of the same origin.

Osamu turns back to Kiyoomi as he rests his chin on his hands with a small, soft smile forming on his lips.

“I know he can be a handful, but… please take good care of him, Sakusa-san.”

Osamu’s words ring sluggishly inside Kiyoomi’s head. All of his movements come into a pause, his glass of beer sticking on his lips. He looks at Osamu in disbelief, trying his best to digest the meaning of it.

He is trusting his twin to Kiyoomi. _Osamu is trusting Atsumu into Kiyoomi’s hands._

It’s an honour that Kiyoomi should never break.

Kiyoomi takes a breath in, putting his glass back on the table, and answers. “I will.”

* * *

V.League ended at the end of February. The season is slowly changing, with less snow and slightly warmer air. The team is preparing to go back home for the off-season. Kiyoomi's family has been bothering him to go back, and this is the first time that Kiyoomi will return to his family home in Tokyo ever since he joined MSBY. He has booked a train ticket to Tokyo, and the whole team decided to book tickets at similar times so they can take the bus together to the station.

The dorms are now being emptied, suitcases and luggage piling on the ground floor. Their team bus has been waiting in front of their dorms to bring them to Osaka station. Exactly five minutes before one, they start to put their luggage into the bus, but Atsumu is nowhere to be found.

"Where's Atsumu?"

"I think he's still in the toilet," Hinata answers, climbing into the bus. "Atsumu-san says that he feels funny."

"I'll go check up on him."

Kiyoomi goes back upstairs to Atsumu's room. He knocks on the door.

"Atsumu?"

There's no answer. Kiyoomi is about to knock again when he hears ruffling sounds through the door. He calls for Atsumu's name again, receiving no response, and Kiyoomi thinks that something is wrong.

"Atsumu? I'm coming in."

Kiyoomi turns the doorknob, unlocked, and opens the door. The scent of honey-lime punches his senses immediately, arousal hanging pungently in the air – Atsumu is in heat.

Shit.

Kiyoomi covers his nose with the hem of his shirt, trying to block out Atsumu's scent in vain. The scent is affecting him, and it won't be long before his control slips away.

"Omi-kun?" he whispers breathlessly. Atsumu is on the bed, cheeks flushed and tears welling on the corner of his eyes. He's completely naked, lying on his sides, his fingers between his legs to stimulate his needy, dripping hole. Atsumu is so defenceless like this, the sight sends Kiyoomi's blood downwards. The whole room feels too hot and suffocating.

"Omi, please..."

This is what Atsumu has always been afraid of, and here he is, panting in front of Kiyoomi with so much need, eyes clouded with lust, hand gripping on Kiyoomi's sleeve in desperation. He looks so vulnerable, body and instinct craving to be filled with attention.

Kiyoomi gulps. Atsumu looks so beautiful like this. He wants more of it like it's never enough.

"It hurts, Omi, touch me, please..."

"Shh," he whispers, hoping to ease Atsumu pent-up stress by running his hand through Atsumu's golden locks. The moment he touches Atsumu's skin, his alpha instinct flares up, threatening to take over any self-control that he has left. Kiyoomi bites the insides of his mouth and removes his hand away from Atsumu. "Hang on there, Atsumu, I'm going to take some medicine from-"

"No, no, please don't leave me..." Atsumu wails, wrapping his arms around Kiyoomi's right arm, pulling him closer. Tears are leaking down his eyes as he looks up to meet Kiyoomi's eyes. "I need ya..."

With Atsumu's warm skin all over Kiyoomi, it's getting harder to fight his instinct. He shakes his head, removing his arm from Atsumu's grip as a warning to Atsumu and himself.

"Atsumu."

Kiyoomi growls, canines baring without Kiyoomi realising it. Atsumu's eyes widen, more tears dripping into the cold floor before he finally looks down, wiping his face from the wetness with trembling hands.

Fuck. Kiyoomi didn't mean to scare him, much less putting Atsumu's omega into obedience. He feels like a failure of an alpha.

"Hold on to my jacket first while you wait," Kiyoomi says, removing his jacket, which Atsumu immediately accepts, breathing in deeply into the cloth. "I promise I won't be gone for long."

Kiyoomi exits the room as quickly as he can. He was sure that he's going to lose it if he hears more of Atsumu's sobbing. He runs to the dorm infirmary at the end of the hall and opens the first-aid box for a newly-packaged pen. Kiyoomi tears it open, inserts it with suppressants, removes his trousers and injects it into his thigh. He takes another pen, inserts the heat suppressant in, and returns back to where Atsumu is. Thanks to the suppressants, Kiyoomi's senses are dulled, preventing him from doing something that he would definitely regret.

"Omiiii..."

Kiyoomi plants a soft kiss on Atsumu's lips, silencing him and distracting him from the injection on Atsumu's left thigh. The suppressant should work within a minute. Waiting for the effects to kick in, Kiyoomi moves down, giving Atsumu butterfly kisses around his neck and chest, drinking in every sound Atsumu makes. Gradually, Atsumu calms down, body limping as he takes in heavy breaths.

"Atsumu?"

Kiyoomi wipes away the remaining tears on the corner of Atsumu's eyes, kissing Atsumu's jaw for a small reassurance, and rises up from the bed to give Atsumu some water. Atsumu is still quiet when Kiyoomi helps him to sit up, finishing the bottle in one go.

"Thank you," Atsumu mutters, reaching for discarded clothes. He awkwardly wears his boxers back, shying away from Kiyoomi. "I'm sorry for troubling you, Omi-kun. You should go now, or you'll miss the train."

"And leave you like this?" Kiyoomi asks, raising an eyebrow. There is no way he would let Atsumu wander outside by himself with his sweet scent, vulnerable to some stranger's harassment. "No. I'll tell the others to go on without us."

Kiyoomi sends a message in the group, requesting his teammates to leave his suitcase behind and cancels his and Atsumu's ticket back. Right now, he has three options. One, he could accompany Atsumu back to Hyogo, which is extremely risky because the emergency suppressants won't last for two hours until his heat relapses. Two, he could book a room at a heat hotel and drop Atsumu there safely. Lastly, he could bring him to his apartment. Kiyoomi could stay somewhere else until Atsumu's heat finishes, but he couldn't guarantee Atsumu's safety, especially when Kiyoomi drops by to bring food.

As much as Kiyoomi doesn't want to, dropping Atsumu alone to a heat hotel would be the safest.

"I'll help you pack your stuff up. I'll bring you to a heat hotel."

Atsumu doesn't say anything, but the indecipherable look on his eyes tells Kiyoomi that something is bothering him.

"Atsumu. It's fine to say it."

"I- I'm just, uh, I..."

He bites his lower lip, looking away from Kiyoomi's gaze, hands gripping sheets of his bed.

"Do ya… not want to mark me?"

Kiyoomi almost chokes on his saliva. Atsumu's voice is laced with hesitation and something akin to fear, neither of what Kiyoomi wants to hear. He wants his omega to feel safe, that it's okay for him to be vulnerable around Kiyoomi.

He's a goner. There is no way he is going to leave Atsumu alone in the hotel.

"I don't want to make decisions for you when you're in heat. I don't want you to regret it when your heat ends."

"I thought… I thought ya didn't want me."

Atsumu purses his lips, cheeks red, fingers fiddling with the sleeves of Kiyoomi's jacket.

Cute.

Kiyoomi wants to mess him up.

"I can't promise you that I can hold myself for you, Atsumu."

"Ya don't need to. I don't want ya to."

He loops back his mask unto his face, feeling the heat creeping up to his face, and redirects his attention to their neglected bags in the room. "Are you on birth control?"

"I always do whenever my heat is approaching."

"Okay. We'll go to my apartment. You can remove the blanket and put it in the laundry first. Use my jacket to cover your scent."

Atsumu's eyes perk up, and he moves while Kiyoomi carries Atsumu's suitcase downstairs and calls for a taxi. When they arrive in Kiyoomi's apartment complex, Atsumu holds his wrist, following Kiyoomi just a few steps behind until they are inside his apartment.

Kiyoomi disinfects their luggage while Atsumu is in the showers, and takes one himself. They are seriously going to do it. Inside his apartment. An image of Atsumu – panting, cheeks flushed, with Kiyoomi's knot inside him – intrudes his mind, and Kiyoomi drastically changes warm water into the cold one, warning his body before his dick can react.

When Kiyoomi finishes, Atsumu has finished his own shower, making himself comfortable in the recliner, watching a drama on the TV.

"Don't forget to tell your family you'll be home late."

"Oh yeah, thanks for remindin' me."

Kiyoomi brews some tea, giving Atsumu a mug along with some biscuits.

"Haven't you watched this one already?"

"Yeah, but it's really good! This is my favourite episode. Oh, and thanks for the snacks, Omi-kun."

Unlike Atsumu, Kiyoomi is not the type who watches sappy romantic dramas like these. This episode is a happy one where the love interest confesses his feelings to the main character, and Atsumu is smiling along with the scene.

"This guy is going back to his original timeline in the next episode, right?"

Atsumu groans, throwing him a glare. "I know, ya don't have to remind me. Way to ruin the mood."

They are almost at the end of the episode when Atsumu's sweet scent builds up again, filling the room with honey-lime, affecting Kiyoomi's body and instinct in it. Beads of sweat are forming on Atsumu's forehead, his eyes out of focus, and the pace of his breathing becomes faster.

Kiyoomi turns off the TV and guides Atsumu to stand. Atsumu nuzzles to the touch immediately. "Ya smell really good."

Atsumu is already heaving when Kiyoomi lays him on the bed. Atsumu removes his bathrobe, tossing it aside, and Kiyoomi follows, joining Atsumu into the bed. He claims Atsumu's lips on his own, sucking and biting until his lips are all red and swollen with Atsumu panting in between, overflowing the room with his intoxicating scent.

Kiyoomi isn't going to last any longer than this.

"Take me, alpha."

Kiyoomi lets the instinct inside of him snap, breaking through every sense of control he has left, and gives his omega everything that he needs.

* * *

Atsumu has never felt so alive and fulfilled in his life before Kiyoomi pins him down to the bed, burning kisses to his oversensitive skin, occupying all of Atsumu’s senses with his alpha scent, filling his needy hole with his knot as Kiyoomi grips on his waist, hard enough to not let Atsumu escape, and gnaws his teeth deep into Atsumu’s nape. He screams, dull ache rumbling with rapture, and Atsumu finally feels _complete._

* * *

**(tw// blood)**

The sun has set and it’s dark outside when Kiyoomi comes back to his senses, body all sticky and disgusting. It’s eight past ten in the evening, way past dinner time, his stomach growling in protest. Atsumu must be hungry too, and with his fridge close to empty, delivery sounds like the better option for now.

Kiyoomi turns to face Atsumu’s sleeping figure, body uncovered by a blanket. His lips are swollen, there are bite marks and hickeys along his neck, inner thigh, and bruises around his waist. He looks like a _wreck_ – did Kiyoomi really do this to him?

Atsumu shifts in his sleep, rolling into his sides, back facing Kiyoomi, and that’s when Kiyoomi sees the nasty bite mark on Atsumu’s nape. He stiffens upon the sight – a wound too deep, still fresh, albeit with splotches of dried blood.

Kiyoomi takes out a disinfectant wipe from his drawer and wipes the dried blood off Atsumu’s nape. He moves closer to inspect the wound, a heavy feeling dreading in his stomach.

There is no mistaking it. The mark goes much deeper into the skin than a regular mark, which means Atsumu’s heat must have triggered Kiyoomi’s rut – and when an omega in heat is claimed during an alpha’s rut, the claim will be permanent.

They are officially mated for the rest of their lives.

Atsumu moves, his back on the bed, eyes fluttering open. “Omi-kun?”

His voice is dry and groggy from sleep. Kiyoomi pours some water, passing it to Atsumu as he sits up to finish the water. Atsumu sets the glass on the bedside table near him and flops back to the bed, groaning.

“My body hurts so bad,” he complains, rubbing his back. “And it’s just the first day.”

Kiyoomi stays silent, helping Atsumu lie on his stomach, massaging the stiff muscles, earning a satisfied hum from the omega. Soon enough, the bite mark on Atsumu’s nape catches Kiyoomi’s attention again.

“Atsumu.”

“Hm?”

“Your heat… triggered my rut.”

“So wha-”

Atsumu brings his hand to his nape, fingers running along the shape of the mark.

“Oh.”

Kiyoomi clenches his jaw and breathes in deeply, ready to rebuke Atsumu for his nonchalance for this situation, but Atsumu’s happy pheromones spiralling in the air eases his temper to muddle.

“What are ya getting so worked up for Omi-kun? We talked about this, remember? I _want_ this.”

Atsumu pushes himself up. He cups Kiyoomi’s face in his hands and pecks on Kiyoomi’s lips. “Don’t worry too much about it. Ya look ugly scrunchin’ yer handsome face like that.”

Kiyoomi is about to retaliate when a loud rumbling noise from his stomach interrupts him, echoing throughout the room. Atsumu breaks into hysterical laughter, and Kiyoomi feels so embarrassed, huffing as he snatches the blanket and buries himself with it.

“I’ll order something,” Kiyoomi grumbles, scrolling on the food-delivery app. “What do you have in mind?”

“Rice would be great,” Atsumu replies in between laughter.

“Fine. I’m ordering don. And would you stop already?”

Atsumu only laughs louder in response. Kiyoomi sighs in surrender.

Why did he fall for this person again?

* * *

Now mated, Atsumu's heat has shortened from a week into three days, and so does Kiyoomi's rut. By the fourth day, Atsumu wakes up feeling refreshed, hormones and body returning into normal – but the bed is cold, absent from the warmth emanating from his alpha.

Atsumu intends to search for him when Kiyoomi returns into the room, fresh from the shower.

"You're up early."

"Mornin', Omi-kun," he greets, sporting a lazy grin to Kiyoomi's kiss on his forehead. "I feel disgusting in this whole mess. I want to take a shower."

"There's a warm bath ready. I'll clean up."

Atsumu gets up from the bed, and as he stands, the residue of their intercourse leaks out from his hole down to his thighs. An embarrassing squeak escapes his lips, and he dashes into the bathroom where a whole mirror awaits him. Atsumu scrutinises at his own reflection for the first time since his heat started - his previously smooth, porcelain skin is now marred with marks in varying degree of red; and they are everywhere – on his neck, chest, waist – and when Atsumu looks down, it's also all over his inner thighs.

Kiyoomi really made a mess out of him, didn't he?

Atsumu then moves his hand to touch his nape, still tender and aching. There, sits the bond mark, permanently etched into his skin, and no matter what he does, the mark will never go away.

He belongs to Kiyoomi now. No other alpha can affect Atsumu, and his pheromones won't attract anyone anymore. Kiyoomi is the only one who has that privilege.

The thought sends shivers into his spine.

Atsumu turns the cold water on and jumps into the cold shower, properly cleaning himself before he soaks in the bathtub's warm water. When he's done, the bed has been changed into fresh sheets, neatly tidied up, and the smell of eggs cooking drives Atsumu into the kitchen where breakfast awaits him.

Atsumu helps Kiyoomi to dry the dishes when they are done.

"Atsumu," Kiyoomi mentions while he washes the dishes, "Does your mother know about me?"

Atsumu shrugs. The last time he told his mother anything was that when he said that he was interested in someone, but Atsumu did imply that it's not something serious. She probably thinks it's just a fleeting relationship like the ones he had in high school, and she hasn't pried anything about this someone until now.

He suddenly remembers Osamu's message and how he forgot to tell his mother about it. Now, he's mated for life to someone that she doesn't know, and _boy,_ she is going to rip both of their heads off.

"S _hit_. I forgot to tell her."

"Wait- _what_?"

Atsumu can sense Kiyoomi's panic following his own. He presses his hands together, apologising profusely.

" _Fuck,_ she's going to kill us- Omi-kun, I'm so, so sorry- I was planning to tell her when I got back but because of my stupid heat we-"

"Okay, okay- calm down," Kiyoomi says, patting Atsumu's shoulders, and sighs. "When are you planning to go back?"

Atsumu is technically done with his heat, and with him being mated now, there's no need to worry about attracting attention on his journey back. If he wants to, he can book a ticket back to Hyogo sooner than later.

"I'm thinking this evening? Or tomorrow morning, maybe."

Kiyoomi nods, taking out his phone. "How about this evening, then? I'll go with you. Let me book the tickets first."

"Wait, yer goin' back with me? Shit, of course yer goin' to. Yer gonna stay there for the night?"

"For a night, maybe. Or more, depending on the situation. I'll book a hotel room near your house when we get there."

"Yeah. Yeah, okay then. I'll tell my mum about it."

Atsumu sent a message to his mother and Osamu a few days ago to announce his late return, and today, he's informing her for his arrival, leaving Osamu out intentionally. Osamu can just figure it out himself when he comes home.

A reply from his mother comes in an instant.

**Mum**

_Im returning home this evening_

_With someone_

_why you tell so suddenly_

_the morning market closed up already_

_i'll cook dinner_

_who is it?_

_..._

_Boyfriend_

_you have a boyfriend?_

_miya atsumu_

_you never told me anything about this_

_That's why he's going home with me today_

"I hope she's gonna let ya stay for dinner," Atsumu mentions, trying to cheer both of them up. "Her cooking is even better than Osamu."

Kiyoomi gives him a tiny, mirthless smile. "Yeah… Let's hope so."

* * *

Atsumu thinks that Kiyoomi hasn’t really done a good job hiding his anxiety, more so when the train starts moving. He keeps repositioning his seat and repeatedly unlocks his phone without doing anything every minute.

“Calm down, Omi-kun. Yer scent is going to disturb other people.”

“Calming down wouldn’t help me to get approval from your mother.”

Atsumu is reminded of a day where he re-watched a game between Jackals and Adlers together with his mother. Shouyou and Kiyoomi had joined the team recently that time, and she commended Kiyoomi for his performance and looks. At least, some of her checklists are crossed, so somehow, it’s going to be fine for him and Atsumu, right?

“Hey, I’m sure she’ll like ya,” Atsumu grins, holding Kiyoomi’s hand on his own. “If anyone’s goin’ to be in a _big_ trouble, it’s me.”

Kiyoomi relaxes to his touch. “You’re the source of her troubles, it seems.”

“I’m nothin’ but a good, dutiful son to her.”

The tension melts, and they return to their normal pace of talking and bickering until they arrive at their destination. They change into the local line, stopping at the nearest station from Atsumu’s house, ten minutes walking away.

“You’ll be okay.” Kiyoomi is antsy, both of them standing in front of his door, and once again, Atsumu tries to reassure him. “Ready?”

“…Okay. I’m ready.”

Atsumu nods, knocking a series of rhythms into the door. It belongs to him and Osamu only, a secret code for their mother to announce their specific arrival.

Behind the door, the sound of metal clanking subsides before the sound of footsteps gets louder. With a click, the door opens to reveal his mother in a cooking apron, still radiant as ever.

“Welcome home, Atsumu,” she greets, outstretching her arms for a hug.

“I’m ho- Ow! Mum, what was that for?”

His mother hits Atsumu hard in the back, and in a swift motion, she pulls Atsumu down to her level through his scarf, jerking the cloth and the turtleneck away, revealing the bond mark on his nape. She gasps, and Atsumu knows he’s screwed.

“Ya never called, and suddenly ya come home with a _mate?_ I thought I raised ya better than that, young man-”

“Mum,” Atsumu groans, interjecting her nagging, “Please let us in first. It’s cold outside.”

His mother glares daggers to him – if looks could kill, Atsumu is dead already – and moves aside to let them in.

“Please excuse me, Miya-san,” Kiyoomi awkwardly says, bowing slightly. His movements are stiff, antsy with agitation. His mother has her arms folded in her chest, eyeing Kiyoomi from the top of his hair to the bottom of his foot, and it makes Atsumu feel more worried about Kiyoomi than himself.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

Oh no. This is the voice that she uses whenever Atsumu and Osamu are in trouble. Her voice sends shivers into Atsumu’s spine. Of course, she knows his name – she follows all of Atsumu’s games since he’s in high school and the players he played with after all.

Kiyoomi will be roasted with Atsumu, and he’s not sure how they will survive this. Cold sweat starts drenching his scalp as he gulps. Faced with the real situation now, Atsumu is honestly afraid that she wouldn’t approve of Kiyoomi as his alpha.

“I’ve always thought ya have some kind of… personal spite towards my boy,” she states, narrowing her eyes, looking at Kiyoomi dangerously. Her lavender omega scent is emitting a threat so potent that Atsumu is sure it could even make an alpha piss in their pants. “What makes ya want to make him yer mate, _hm_? Are ya really ‘Tsumu’s boyfriend? Or this is some kind of revenge so ‘Tsumu won’t be able to bond with anyone else in the future?”

Kiyoomi has his head down, the panic in his eyes impossible to miss, under his mother’s shouting. She has gone overboard by that accusation, and Atsumu’s previous fear is replaced by anger.

“Mum. Please don’t accuse Omi-kun for the things he didn’t do. Yer bein’ really unfair to him right now.”

“Is that so?” she fumes, unaffected by Atsumu’s yelling, pointing a finger to Kiyoomi. “You. Explain. _Now._ ”

“I- we- we started dating last autumn and a few days ago Atsumu has his heat in the dorms-”

_“And ya took advantage of that?!”_

“For god’s sake, mum! My heat started early. Omi-kun gave me suppressants and was about to bring me to a hotel but I insisted on taking me with him to his apartment. This is what I asked Omi-kun to do, okay? None of this is his fault.”

The house goes silent on Atsumu’s outburst. His mother’s keen eye is on him, but it’s not like Atsumu can lie without getting caught by her anyway.

A sound of something gurgling in the kitchen cracks the heavy tension, and with one last sharp glare towards Atsumu, she walks away. “Fine. Take him in. Yer goin’ to have a talk with me as soon as yer done, Atsumu.”

Atsumu helplessly nods on his mother’s retreating back. Kiyoomi releases a long sigh, shoulders sagging as he slouches to the wall behind him. Atsumu kisses Kiyoomi’s cheek and nuzzles into his neck, releasing some calming pheromones, hopefully easing Kiyoomi’s nerves.

“Sorry for that, Omi-kun. I didn’t expect her reacting that bad.”

Atsumu feels a hand ruffling his hair softly. “It’s okay. I think she’s letting me off for now. I hope you’ll be fine with your talk.”

“I’ll be fine,” Atsumu mutters, nervously reassuring Kiyoomi and himself, “Or at least, I hope so. I don’t think she’ll be mad for long. There’s nothin’ she can do ‘bout it, anyways. C’mon, I’ll take ya in.”

Atsumu leads Kiyoomi to the living room. He turns on the TV and passes the remote to Kiyoomi.

“Entertain yerself for awhile, Omi-kun. Feel free to take the water on the table. I’ll be back to call ya when dinner is ready.”

Atsumu leaves Kiyoomi in the room and before he steps into the kitchen, he takes in a deep breath, bracing himself for their conversation. As he enters, he immediately washes his hands to assist his mother in cooking, and they talk.

* * *

Kiyoomi is restless. The TV is on, but Kiyoomi can’t concentrate on whatever’s playing on the screen. He sits feebly on the couch, looking around his surroundings, ear picking up voices coming from the other room that sounds like a heated argument.

Well. At least they’re not shouting like they had on the genkan.

Kiyoomi has always thought that films and dramas exaggerate the hostility in scenes where the character meets their lover’s parents, but today, those tacky scenarios proved to be right. Kiyoomi swears he has never felt so terrified before in his short twenty-four-year-old life. It’s not surprising for Atsumu to not find alphas scary if he deals with that kind of horror growing up – because _damn,_ his mother is more frightening than one. No one would expect the petite, middle-aged omega whose height doesn’t even reach his shoulders to have so much intimidating aura inside her.

Around twenty minutes have passed when Atsumu comes back to the room. Much to Kiyoomi’s relief, the previous strain in Atsumu’s facial muscles is now gone.

“Things are fine now, Omi-kun, she’s not gonna haul on ya anymore. Dinner’s ready, so let’s get to the table, yeah?”

“…Okay.”

Kiyoomi trails Atsumu towards the dining table where Atsumu’s mother is waiting. Only after Atsumu is seated that Kiyoomi dares to pull out a chair across them, waiting for both Atsumu and his mother to swallow the first bite of their portion before Kiyoomi starts picking his chopsticks up. In front of him are a tray with a generous amount of rice, a huge piece of chicken katsu, spinach, some pickles, and a bowl of miso soup.

The food smells good, and when the first bite enters his mouth, bombs of flavour explode inside his mouth. This homemade cooking is better than restaurant food, and it blows him away.

“I apologize for blindly gettin’ angry at you just before, Kiyoomi-kun. Is it fine if I call ya that?”

“Please don’t be, Miya-san. It’s okay.”

She grins, a smile bright enough mirroring Atsumu. “My name’s Chiharu, but call me kaa-san! And so, what do ya think about the food, Kiyoomi-kun?”

Her sudden friendliness takes Kiyoomi aback. Such a drastic contrast from the fuming omega who screams at him just around half-an-hour ago.

And… _Kaa-san?_ Chiharu hasn’t officially become his in-law yet, but she’s asking him to call her that already?

Across him, Atsumu winks.

“It’s really delicious,” Kiyoomi truthfully answers. She looks pleased and lightens up.

“Glad ta hear that! There’s more if ya wanna seconds, okay?”

“I will, thank you very much, Miya-san.”

“Call me kaa-san.”

“Okay... kaa-san.”

Chiharu smiles along with Atsumu regardless of the awkward way Kiyoomi calls her ‘mother’. “I must say though, Kiyoomi-kun, I’ve been expecting ‘Tsumu to bring someone like ya. Calm and polite, tall, black hair, plays volleyball...”

“What makes ya say that, mum?” Atsumu inquires, raising an eyebrow.

She shrugs. “Oh, I just think yer tastes won’t drive far from ‘Samu’s.”

Kiyoomi can’t help but frown a little, while Atsumu shrieks. “Omi-kun is nowhere as bad as Rintarou, mum!”

“Okay, okay, whatever ya say,” she snickers, rolling her eyes as she waves Atsumu off, and turns to Kiyoomi. “So, tell me about yerself, Kiyoomi-kun.”

The evening goes swimmingly well. Kiyoomi helps Chiharu with the dishes as they chatter, Chiharu telling embarrassing stories from Atsumu’s childhood, and shows Kiyoomi an old photo album – much to Atsumu’s dismay and Kiyoomi’s amusement.

She invites Kiyoomi to stay the night before he goes back to Tokyo tomorrow morning, in the end.

* * *

Atsumu is lying on his bed on the bunk bed above while scrolling mindlessly on his phone when the door opens, wafting a familiar honey-lemon coated in alcohol. Osamu must have gone out drinking.

"'Tsumu."

"Hm?"

"Why are ya here?"

"I'm spendin' my off-season here, duh."

"Ya didn't tell me ya finished your heat early."

"Yeah."

"And ya didn't tell me yer coming home today."

"Yeah."

"And ya didn't tell me ya fucked and now yer _mated_."

"Yeah."

"And Sakusa-san is sleepin' in the room next to ours."

"Yeah."

Atsumu hears Osamu stomping closer and in an instant, the bed shakes. The poles creak in protest – his bed is holding an 80 kg athlete, for fucks sake – and Atsumu is scared of the possibility of their old bunk bed toppling down, crashing both of his and Osamu's beds.

He holds his headboard in a death grip and shouts, "The _fuck_ , 'Samu?"

"Ya piece of shit," Osamu snarls, climbing up the stairs to Atsumu's bed, and punches Atsumu in the gut. And _damn,_ it hurts like a bitch. "Ya didn't read and reply to my texts either. For _four days._ I thought ya died already."

Atsumu punches him back, hard, satisfied when Osamu winces in pain. "Ya don't need to hit me that hard, asshole!"

They both wrestle each other on Atsumu's bed until a loud, perturbing creak stops them from choking each other. They go silent as they look at each other, ensuring that the bed is still holding both of their weights. Finally, Osamu sighs and flops into Atsumu's pillow. Atsumu snatches his pillow back, hugging it in his arms as he lies beside Osamu in the cramped space.

This is their tradition, something akin to an unspoken rule between them since they were kids. Atsumu doing the talking, Osamu listening to whatever Atsumu has to say – and vice versa.

"My heat started early."

A line forms between Osamu's eyebrows. "Yer heat never does."

"I know." Ever since he presented, Atsumu's heat is fairly on schedule every three months. The worst problem he ever faced was that one time on his first year of high school when his heat came late for around a week. It has always been Osamu who has problems with his heat starting earlier than predicted. "That's why I panicked. I searched for the emergency suppressants mum insisted on carryin' in my bag, but when I opened it, it was already expired. I knew I was screwed and I tried gettin' out of my room to get some from the first-aid kit, but the heat kicks up pretty fast that day, and I just can't think clearly anymore."

"That's… really dangerous, 'Tsumu."

"I know. If it wasn't for Omi-kun… I'm sure that one of the workers would plummet my ass down and I'm stuck being mated with a random guy until the mark disappears." Atsumu shakes his head, bitterness on his tongue prominent upon the horrible things that could've happened to him. "But anyways, long story short, Omi-kun injects some suppressants, takes me to his apartment, and… here I am, a single man no more!"

Osamu pushes his body up, lips tightened into a line, glancing at Atsumu with a deadly stare. "Did he-"

"No, no, Omi would never kidnap me like that. I asked him to mark me-"

"Ya _did_?"

"Well, not exactly, but we're datin' already, so it's fine, right?"

"Did mum-"

"Oh, she's _furious_. She screams the hell out at Omi-kun the moment we stepped into the house. I almost died when she had _the talk_ with me. But she's cool with it now."

Osamu scoffs, lying back to the bed. "Too bad ya didn't. I could've become an only child if mum disowns ya."

"Careful there, 'Samu, I'm strong enough to push ya out of this bed."

"I'd like to see ya try."

In a swift motion, Atsumu uses all of his strength to push Osamu's back. Half of his body is now dangerously hanging on the edge of the bed's railings.

"Try me, 'Samu."

"'Tsumu- the _fuck-_ I'm seriously going to fall down…!"

Satisfied upon Osamu's genuine panic, he laughs evilly, and pulls his twin back into the bed, receiving an elbow to his stomach. Atsumu doesn't retaliate – no, hitting Osamu's arm doesn't count – and well, Atsumu admits he kind of deserves it.

"I still can't believe ya managed to snatch Sakusa-san as yer mate. Out of all the people in the world, he chooses _you._ "

"I know," Atsumu sighs happily, ignoring Osamu's sarcasm. "Not even Omi-kun can resist my charms."

Osamu grimaces and Atsumu knows he's judging him by the eye - not like Atsumu cares, anyway. Atsumu sticks his tongue out and Osamu pushes him away as he climbs down the stairs. "Gross," he spats venomously, "I'm takin' a bath. And ya better take that jacket away because it reeks of alpha."

Atsumu rolls his eyes in response. Osamu can choose to ignore Kiyoomi's scent if he wants to - a perk of a mated omega - unlike Atsumu who couldn't do anything about Rintarou's alpha scent stinking the room when they were still in high school. Osamu can just suck it up like Atsumu did.

"Nah. I like havin' it here."

Osamu huffs, and leaves the room with his towel.

* * *

After three long hours of train ride from Hyogo, all Kiyoomi wants is to take a relaxing jacuzzi bath in the tranquillity of an empty house. It’s still noon, and his siblings aren’t supposed to come home before eight. During that span of time, he has to make sure to wash every clothing he has on his skin to remove any traces of Atsumu’s scent, preventing any questions being asked by his nosy family.

“I’m home,” Kiyoomi says, entering the house, to no one in particular. He has only removed his shoes in the genkan when a head with long, curly black locks appears from behind the walls, and before Kiyoomi could react, she rushes to approach him.

“Welcome home, Kiyoomi. It’s been too long since you’re last here.” Kyoko calmly - or more so, deadly - smiles, inching in a bit too close for Kiyoomi’s comfort, and _sniffs._

There goes his perfectly arranged plan for the evening.

“Ah, so that’s why you need to postpone your trip back. Then? When are you going to propose to Atsumu-kun? Am I going to have a niece or nephew soon?”

“ _Nee-san_ ,” Kiyoomi breathes out, teeth gritting as he holds his patience, “I just got back all the way from Hyogo and I’m tired. Let me in and have a nice, _peaceful_ bath.”

“Hm. Okay. I think I can do that,” she says, and walks away. “But don’t think I’m letting you go, Kiyoomi.”

Kyoko doesn’t bother him anymore until around dinnertime where his family member arrives home one by one. His father returns the last, bringing the Komori family with him – for fucks sake – and after dinner, they wait expectantly for Kiyoomi in the family room. There’s no escape for him.

“So? When are you taking Atsumu-kun to meet us?” his father calmly asks, sipping gracefully on his tea. Kiyoomi sighs in surrender, crashing into one of the recliners.

“Maybe some time when we have a game in Tokyo.”

His mother – who smiles for long enough for her facial muscles to cramp – leans to his father’s shoulder, beaming, “I can’t believe this _difficult_ son of mine finally has someone to spend his life with! I honestly thought you’d still be single by thirty and then I’d have to drag you to a matchmaking company.”

The whole room laughs. Kyoko and Kyoutarou though – they laugh like two hysterical hyenas – brusque and insufferable, and Kiyoomi wonders how these two people are married.

This is why he doesn’t want to tell his family anything. They’re simply _embarrassing._

“How did his parents react?”

Motoya throws him a ‘look’ – Kiyoomi messaged him in his panic for emotional support and he knew how Chiharu chastises him the moment he steps his foot inside the house. But the others certainly don’t need to know that. “There’s his mother only. She accepted our relationship.”

“I see. Please request Atsumu-kun to bring his mother along and twin along whenever your team is going to Tokyo. If needed, your mother and I can arrange a ticket for them.”

Kyoko nods along and grins sideways. “I can’t wait to meet him. He looks like a sweet guy. Especially if he sticks out with Kiyoomi.”

Kiyoomi is trying to refrain himself from snapping at his sister as she snickers, and when they’re done, it’s his brother’s turn to egg on him and Motoya to spill information regarding Kiyoomi’s relationship.

As unbearable as his family can be, Atsumu is surely welcomed into Kiyoomi’s family with open arms.

* * *

Two weeks into their one-month break, Atsumu announces in the team group chat that everyone is invited to Onigiri Miya’s Tokyo branch grand opening around ten days from today. Kiyoomi is about to ask Atsumu about it when messages from Atsumu comes flooding in.

**Miya Atsumu**

_Omi kun!!!(o^_ _▽^o)_

 _Im going to tokyo next week with samu and mum(_ _≧◡≦_ _)_

_What time does your train arrive?_

_17:09 on 15th_

_I’ll pick you up from the station_

_Where are you staying at?_

_[Miya Atsumu sent a location]_

_Its just going to be me and mum tho_

_Samu is staying with rintarou_

_Btw are u busy from on 18?_ _≧▽≦_

_No, why?_

_I was wondering if u can take me and mum on a tour around tokyo?( >ω<)_

_Ok_

_Yaaaay_ _＼_ _(_ _＾_ _▽_ _＾_ _)_ _／_

_[Miya Atsumu sent a sticker.]_

Kiyoomi takes his car for thorough cleaning outside and inside – body and leather seats wiped sparkling. He bribes Motoya for a sushi lunch to stay shut about it so Kiyoomi can stay out of his family’s radar when he picks Atsumu and his family up in the Tokyo station.

A pleased hum escapes Kiyoomi when he sees the twinkle in their eyes upon his car.

“If yer tryin’ to impress us, yer plan is a success, Omi-kun,” Atsumu awes, and Kiyoomi smirks behind his mask as takes the wheel. He drives them into the hotel, only five minutes’ walk away from Onigiri Miya’s designated area. He offers to help them, but Osamu politely declines, telling Kiyoomi he should just wait for the surprise on the grand opening. Kiyoomi comes back to the hotel on the 18th and as promised, takes Atsumu and his mother a tour around Tokyo, insisting on paying their meals.

One day when Kiyoomi is relaxing on the couch – three days before Onigiri Miya’s grand opening – his brother sneakily hangs his arms on Kiyoomi’s shoulder from behind with a phone in his hand, the screen showing an Instagram post. Kiyoomi squints at the username.

**myaaa_tsm**

**Tokyo, Japan**

[ _a picture of Atsumu, his mother, and Osamu smiling happily as they stand in front of a dark building, a vague sign of ‘Onigiri Miya’ written on the back._ ]

**[Like] [Comment] [Message] [Save]**

**2,019 likes**

myaaa_tsm _Onigiri Miya will officially open in Tokyo three days from today! Check out Onigiri Miya’s Instagram @onigirimiya or website at [link] for further details_ _🤩 don’t miss out our opening promo and a chance to have a free autograph_ _😉_

“Kiyoomi, I thought we’re done playing secrets? Atsumu-kun is in Tokyo and you didn’t say anything?”

Oh. Kiyoomi forgot to tell Atsumu to block his siblings from his Instagram. He rubs his fingers on his scalp.

“Don’t touch me.” Kiyoomi shrugs off Kyoutarou’s limbs away. “Our deal is if we have a game in Tokyo.”

Kyoutarou hums, and Kiyoomi knows he’s purposely ignoring his remark. “I’m telling mum and dad. We’re coming over for the grand opening~”

A series of messages in his family group chat that come sooner than later as Kiyoomi exasperatedly surrenders to their antics.

* * *

Kiyoomi comes over to Onigiri Miya by the evening. On a table in the corner, some of his teammates and some from EJP – including Motoya – are eating. There are plates of onigiris and several cans of beers scattered on the table. Motoya scooted to the side, giving Kiyoomi a place to sit, presenting him with a new, surprise menu list.

In the busy crowd, he spots Atsumu moving around the tables, and when their eyes meet, he waves, taking Kiyoomi's orders up, and only returns to bring his order.

"Did my parents or siblings come here earlier?" Kiyoomi asks as Atsumu places his order.

"Uh… I don't think so. I should've noticed if they were here."

Atsumu then promises Kiyoomi that they can talk after he's done and goes back to work. The store is still packed, even into an hour before their closing time.

When the shop closes at ten, customers start to leave, including his teammates, deserting the previously full restaurant. Kiyoomi stays behind, and Motoya bids his goodbye.

"I'm returning first, Kiyoomi! Good luck!"

Kiyoomi wants to ask him what the _good luck_ is for, but Motoya has dashed away from the door before he could. He lets it go, whipping up his phone to scroll down his social media as he waits for Atsumu to finish. That's when he hears muffled sounds and knocking on the front door. Kiyoomi looks up, intending to tell the customers that the shop is already closed for today – the closed sign is already hanging on the door, seriously – to see four people standing in front, all dressed up and sparkling like they had just walked out of a magazine. His sister knocks on the door, and his brother waves at him.

_What._

"Why is everyone here", Kiyoomi demands to know as he stands in the middle of the door, blocking their way in. "The store is closed."

His brother smiles sheepishly. "Well, we're not invited to the opening party, so we figured to come when it's closed?"

"How did you know I'm here anyways-"

"Kyoko tells me she finds out through Motoya-kun's Instagram story," his mother smirks. "I come here immediately as soon as I finish work. Let us meet the boy, kid."

Kiyoomi glares at his sister who cheekily avoids it, and turns to his father to plead for help. He's smiling softly, amused.

"He's still inside the shop, right?"

It's already past ten o'clock, and the Miyas went through a long day. But before Kiyoomi can say anything, Osamu walks out from the kitchen.

"Sorry, we're closed, please come back- oh." Osamu turns to Kiyoomi, looking at him wide-eyed before removing his hat, bowing down in courtesy. "Good evening. Please come in."

Kiyoomi moves out of the way, sighing, and Osamu mumbles, "You didn't tell us your family is coming today, Sakusa-san."

"I wasn't informed about this either."

"Osamu-kun, is it?" Kyoko quips, roaming around the restaurant. "This is a nice place you have. In the middle of the town too."

"Thank you, Sakusa-san."

"Please, call me Kyoko."

There's some clattering followed by some ominous gurgling sounds in the back, turning everyone's attention to the sound.

"…' Samu! Where the hell are ya at!" Atsumu's voice booms out, "Are ya ditchin' us to get away from the dirty work? It's only the first day and yer sink is clogged-"

Atsumu, clad in an apron and a rubber plunger in his hand, shows himself in front of six pairs of eyes.

"Uh… Welcome to Onigiri Miya?"

Atsumu then undoes the apron and puts aside the plunger in haste. He gives Kiyoomi a look that says ' _Omi-kun you didn't tell me about this'_ and Kiyoomi returns to look back with ' _Me neither'_. Chiharu and Suna soon appear in the background. Kiyoomi's family is practically glowing by now.

"Hello, Atsumu-kun," his mother greets, standing up from her seat on the stool. "I'm happy to finally meet you. Thank you for taking care of Kiyoomi until now."

Atsumu fidgets a little, like he's unsure what to do, before he bows down. "I'm honoured to meet you too, Sakusa-san."

"Oh, my bad, I haven't even introduced myself yet. I'm Kiyoomi's mother. My name is Sayuri."

Kiyoomi decides it's only proper for him to take care of the trouble his family is causing to introduce them. "Please let me introduce you to my family. This is my mother, Sayuri, the head alpha of our family, and this is my father, Kazuhiko. These are my siblings, my older sister Kyoko and older brother Kyoutarou."

Chiharu beams, pouring them some tea. "Welcome, and pleased finally to meet you too. I'm Atsumu's mother, Chiharu. It's nothing much from this humble place, but please help yerselves with some of today's special!"

"Oh, that's very kind of you, Chiharu-san, thank you very much."

Osamu presents them a plate of freshly made onigiris. They delight in the night snack as they talk, hovering all over Atsumu. He looks overwhelmed, eye darting back-and-forth to his family with a pink flush on his face, and Kiyoomi chuckles softly upon the sight. His family is surprisingly civil, and maybe this night could go better than he originally thought.

More than half-an-hour has passed before they finally decide to leave. "Thank you for your hospitality. We're very sorry to intrude upon you this late at night," his mother says.

"Please don't be," Chiharu replies, Osamu and Atsumu nodding in agreement. "We're honoured to have you here."

"If you don't mind, I'd like to invite you to dinner at our place? Kiyoomi can pick you up at the hotel."

"A dinner would be lovely. When?"

"Is Thursday evening okay with you?"

Chiharu converses with Osamu regarding the restaurant on Thursday. He types in something into his phone, makes a phone call to the back, and when he returns, he gives them a confirmation. "We can do Thursday."

"Okay then, we'll see you all on Thursday. Once again, thank you for today. It's wonderful to meet you," she exclaims, and winks at Atsumu. "And you too, Atsumu-kun."

“Ah-Thank you, Sakusa-san.”

"Call us kaa-san and tou-san! Consider us your parents now, Atsumu-kun."

His mother beams and his father gives Atsumu a warm smile. Atsumu awkwardly nods in return. After exchanging more thank yous and goodnights, they leave the restaurant.

Atsumu's family watch their exit in silence until Chiharu chides, "Kiyoomi-kun, we'll be in your care until your family dinner."

Kiyoomi is glad that everything works well in the end.

* * *

The dinner went incredibly well, and the stay in Tokyo is pleasant. But with his break over in two days, Atsumu must return to Osaka. Kiyoomi drives both of them back, bringing his car from Tokyo to Osaka so he wouldn’t have to take the train anymore.

Kiyoomi proposed Atsumu to move in with him, which Atsumu accepted. He moves most of his stuff from the dorms into Kiyoomi’s apartment the day they return and helps him with the groceries and cleaning. Atsumu is in charge of wiping the windows and furniture while Kiyoomi changes the sheets, leaving the floor to the cleaning robot.

They finished in the evening. Freshly out of his second shower, Atsumu orders some take out from their favourite Chinese restaurant. With the wind blowing the colourful leaves in the background, Atsumu has the urge to go out to the balcony. The view from up here is better than the dorm’s rooftop, Atsumu supposes, but it doesn’t mean that the dirty rooftop is replaceable.

“It’s cold,” Kiyoomi states from behind Atsumu, “Go in. I don’t want you getting sick and spreading it to me later.”

Atsumu waves him off. “Aw, Omi-kun, a short while won’t hurt. Just like a little drizzle won’t hurt us.”

Kiyoomi snorts, and leans on the railings beside Atsumu. “What, you’re getting all sentimental and nostalgic right now?”

“Maybe I am. I still remember ya gettin’ concerned about me because I didn’t follow you back when it started drizzling. How cute,” Atsumu teases, grinning cheekily.

“I did not.”

“Ya did. Tellin’ me not to get sick and all. I think ya’ve been crushin’ on me even before that day.”

“That’s impossible. Even until now, I still think you’re a menace.”

“Hey!”

They both laugh, and fall into a comfortable silence. The wind breezes, blowing brown leaves into the balcony, and Atsumu lets his mind wander. He thinks about Kiyoomi, the sunset, the cold breeze, food, and back to Kiyoomi again - while he hums into his favourite tune.

“That day…” Kiyoomi says, breaking their silence, “I can’t believe I talked to you about my ex, out of all people.”

Atsumu cackles. “I’m irresistible, Omi-kun. Not even yer secrets can stay personal for long around me.”

“Couldn’t say that I regret it much, though.” Kiyoomi clicks his tongue, “I bet you’ve been secretly holding on to the fact I’m more inclined to guys so you can wrap your little fingers on me.”

“That’s the most narcissistic thing I’ve ever heard from ya. I thought I’m the narcissist between us.” Atsumu wholeheartedly laughs. “Now that I think of it, we wouldn’t have talked about that if it wasn’t for Motoya-kun, now is it?”

“You’re right. I wouldn’t be up there too, if Motoya didn’t ask for photos.”

“So, in conclusion, we wouldn’t be together if it’s not for him.”

Kiyoomi shakes his head and hums. “Motoya will be happy if he hears about this.”

“Remind me to thank him the next time he comes to visit.”

“Will do. Now, let’s go back inside.”

Atsumu lets Kiyoomi pull his arm back as he looks at the sky, coloured in ombre, and through the memories of nostalgia, he smiles.

* * *

Atsumu wakes up a ribbon of sunlight peeking from the curtains. It’s Sunday – the last day of their break – and without practice, they’re free to laze around until noon.

He snuggles into the warmth of Kiyoomi’s embrace, staring dreamily to the man in his arms reach. Atsumu runs his hand to Kiyoomi’s soft, black curls, playing with it until his bangs fall to his eyes, and playfully blows it away to the sides. He runs his fingers along Kiyoomi’s sharp jaw, gawking at his painfully handsome face, and cups Kiyoomi’s face in his hands.

Without Kiyoomi’s permanent pout and the furrow between his eyes, he looks so peaceful in his sleep. No matter how many times Atsumu has seen him like this – neutral, vulnerable, lulling with serenity – Atsumu can’t get enough of it. He tilts his head forward, planting a chaste kiss to Kiyoomi’s lips, and still with their lips touching, Atsumu smiles to himself, and buries his face into the crook of his alpha’s neck.

He smells wonderful. Kiyoomi is wonderful. This morning is wonderful.

Life is good and wonderful like this.

After indulging himself for another while, Atsumu finally gets up from the bed. He takes out the rice, washes it, pouring just enough water, and let it cook inside the rice cooker. He then takes out two pieces of salmon from the fridge, which has been marinated overnight, and heats up the oil in the pan. Beside it, sits a pot with water and dashi as a base for miso soup. It is a simple, delicious, and quick breakfast recipe.

Atsumu places the food in the plates that he had tidily prepared in a tray. What’s better than indulging his alpha for breakfast in bed?

“Atsumu?” a voice calls, sleep lacing his voice, as Atsumu brews the tea. “Why are you up so early?”

Atsumu glances back to see Kiyoomi leaning in the doorframe of his bedroom. “Omi-kun? Yer up all ready?”

“Mhm. I hear something frying.”

“Well then, go back to bed,” Atsumu urges, pushing Kiyoomi back to the bed. “Yer ruined my surprise for ya already. Pretend yer asleep.”

“Oh?”

Kiyoomi’s eyes flutter lazily, a small smile forming on his lips, still hazy with sleep. Atsumu bends down to kiss his cheek.

“It’s almost done, wait here.”

Atsumu prepares the smaller tray, putting the teapot and cups, carrying it in a hand and the food tray in another to the bedroom.

“I made breakfast in bed~”

“What’s the occasion?”

“I’m just in a good mood,” Atsumu hums, takes his own portion of food, and tucks himself on the bed with Kiyoomi. “Or maybe I wanna spoil ya more.”

“Thank you, Atsumu.” Kiyoomi chuckles and kisses Atsumu’s cheek. “It smells good, but I wonder how it’ll taste...”

“Hey! I’m no Osamu, but I’ll let ya know I’m a good cook,” Atsumu complains, picking his own chopsticks up. “A twin will never fall far behind from his twin. Now, eat up.”

“ _Itadakimasu._ ”

Atsumu patiently waits for Kiyoomi’s reaction as he scoops up the rice and takes a bite of the fish and the soup. His face remains unreadable until he gulps down the food.

“Yer just like the judges in the cooking show ‘Samu watches, Omi-kun. Pretentious.”

“It’s delicious,” he says, and takes another bite. “You should cook more whenever you’re here.”

Pride bubbles inside his chest as Atsumu scoops up his food and happily munches on it. “See? I told ya.”

“I’m sure I can make something better, though.”

Kiyoomi is smirking, and Atsumu smirks back. “Oh? Is that a challenge? Bring it on, Omi-omi.”

They close their meal with tea, and Kiyoomi cleans up the plates after. Atsumu leans on the doorframe, and with the morning sunbeams illuminating Kiyoomi’s back, he yearns to have these kinds of mornings – waking up in each other’s arms, going out for morning jog together, listening to the sound of Kiyoomi’s morning showers as Atsumu preparing both of their bento boxes, and having breakfasts together.

Atsumu looks out to the window towards where the sun rises – greeting him for a brand-new day – to the humming trees with leaves turning into shades of yellow and brown and birds flocking around. Autumn is just around the corner – almost two years have passed since they met again after four long years, once upon a spring.

So many things have changed ever since.

He feels an arm snaking around his waist, pulling him towards the warmth of a broad chest, followed with a kiss on his bond mark. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothin’ much.” Atsumu mumbles, leaning towards Kiyoomi’s embrace. “Somethin’ about how much I’m lucky to have ya.”

“What a sap,” Kiyoomi replies, kissing his cheek playfully. “Tease.”

“I would never-!”

Kiyoomi carries Atsumu back, both of them come crashing into the bed, limbs tangled upon each other as they laugh each other’s heart out.

“Let’s get back to sleep, then.”

With Kiyoomi’s gentle arms around Atsumu, he sighs in content - cherishing every touch, devotion, and love that Kiyoomi has got to offer.

This is where he belongs. This is his home.

Atsumu never wants it to end.

And perhaps, the warm beams of sunlight would accompany their mornings through the time’s end too.

**Author's Note:**

> credits:  
> \- inspired and influenced by [ liminal spaces ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24419953) vibes by [ hatsuna ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hatsuna/pseuds/hatsuna)  
> \- onigiri miya scene is inspired and influenced by [ laid bare ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27111868) by [ favspacetwink ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/favspacetwink/pseuds/favspacetwink) and [ moonlumie ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlumie/pseuds/moonlumie)  
>   
> glossary:  
> furikake = dry condiment made of seaweed, vegetables, and fish. usually sprinkled on rice.  
> houjicha = roasted black tea.  
> izakaya = japanese bar serving alcohol and snacks.  
> genkan = entryway areas in japanese houses where people take off their shoes before entering.  
> genmaicha = a type of green tea mixed with brown rice.  
> goukon = group blind date.  
> gyokuro = a type of high-class japanese tea. expensive.  
> kintsuba = japanese traditional dessert made from sweet potatoes.  
> konbini = convenience store.  
> ootoro = fatty tuna.  
> umeboshi = pickled plum (omi's favourite food!).  
> yuurei = souls/ghost.  
> zashiki = a type of seating where you sit on the floor. people sit on the sitting pillows. the tables are low.
> 
> ...what a long journey. (just a note: the changes in the way they refer each other in the last 1/3 part is intentional)  
> feedbacks are welcome. thank you for stopping by!


End file.
